THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


S^M^goLLEcnm 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arcliive 

in  2010  witli  funding  from 

University  of  Nortli  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/hughdarnabystoryOOdavi 


HUGH  D ARN AB Y 


A  STORY  OF  KENTUCKY 


BY 

GARKETT    MOEROW   DAVIS 


WASHINGTON,  D.  0.: 

GIBSON  BROS.,  PUBLISHERS. 

1900. 


copybight,  1900. 
By  Gabbett  Moeeow  Datis. 


JUST  A  WORD. 

I  wish  to  inscribe  this  little  story  to  the 
friends  of  a  younger  generation  which  I 
have  made  in  later  years,  from  both  north 
of  the  beautiful  Ohio  and  from  south  of  the 
southern  line  of  Kentucky,  as  well  as  to  the 
young  men  and  maidens  of  my  native  and 
well-beloved  State,  in  the  hope  that  it  may 
prove  of  some  historical  value  to  them  all, 
as  most  of  the  incidents  therein  narrated  are 
founded  on  fact,  and  also  in  the  further  hope 
that  a  more  intimate  acquaintance  with  the 
every-day  life  of  my  people  will  enable  those 
from  other  States  to  better  understand  them, 
and  that  in  consequence  thereof  we  may  be- 
come yet  closer  friends. 
Sincerely, 

Gakkett  Mobrow  Davis. 


r::  o  O  O  o  r-» 

»>  O  riw  Ac  ('•.,•  O 


OOKTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

INTEODtrCING   MT   HEEO,    . 


CHAPTER  II. 

A  TYPICAL  COUNTRY  HOME  IN  KENTUCKY,      .     .    16 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    DANCE    AT   PENDLETON's,    ..... 

CHAPTER  IV. 

HUGH    BIDS    HIS   MOTHEB    FAREWELL   AND    LEAVES  FOE 
THE   AEMY, 


26 


44 


CHAPTER  V. 

ME.    PENDLETON    AND    ME.  DARNABY    LEAVE    HOME    AT 

THE    APPROACH    OF    THE    CONFEDERATES,  .  .         55 

CHAPTER  VI. 

morgan's   RAIDERS    VISIT    THE    DARNABY    PLACE,  .  64 

CHAPTER  VII. 

TOM   DARNABY'S    RIDE,  ......  73 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

HUGH    IS    WOUNDED,   PAYS    HIS    MOTHER    A    VISIT,    AND 

LITTLE   BLACK    MILLY    WINS    A    RACE,         ...  82 

CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  PEEBYVILLE  IS  FOUGHT,  THE  NEGROES 
ARE  EMANCIPATED,  THE  WAR  IS  OVER,  AND  HUGH 
COMES    HOME,  .......  98 


6  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  X. 

COUNTY   COUBT   DAT   IN   KENTUCKY.         HUGH    STUDIES 

LAW, 118 


CHAPTER  XI. 

AN   EXCITING   ELECTION,  AT    WHICH   HUGH  ASSISTS   IN 

PBEVENTING   TEOUBLE, 133 


CHAPTER  XII. 

HUGH   MAKES   HIS   MAIDEN  SPEECH,     ....       153 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

HUGH     DAENABY     AND    ANNIE    CAESON     MEET    APTEB 

YEAB8   OF   SEPAEATION, 172 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

MBS.    CAESON   DECIDES   TO   BENT   A   COTTAGE   FOE   THE 

SUMMEE   IN   THE   TOWN   NEAB   HEB   OLD   HOME,  .       195 

CHAPTER  XV. 

IN    WHICH   IS   GIVEN   A   DESCEIPTION    OF    THE   COUNTY 

FAIE, 218 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

A   SCENE    AT    THE    COTTAGE, 226 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

IN   WHICH   HUGH   DAENABY   EECEIVES   HIS   BEWAED,     .       238 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

IN  WHICH  THE  BEADEE  IS  INTEODUCED  TO  TOM  BOWL- 
ING, THE  CELEBBATED  EACE  HOESE,  AND  IN  WHICH 
OUB   STOEY   CLOSES, 243 


HUGH  DARNABY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

INTRODUCING   MY  HERO. 

^T^HE  October  days  had  come.  In  Central 
Kentucky,  as  a  general  thing,  the 
month  of  October  is  very  beautiful. 

On  one  of  these  days,  perched  upon  the 
"  bars  "  which,  when  up,  served  to  close  the 
entrance  to  the  field  in  which  he  had  been 
working,  from  the  lane  leading  to  the  house, 
sat  Hugh  Darnaby. 

He  was  the  "young  gentleman"  of  the 
family,  though  not  so  young  either,  as  time 
goes,  for  he  had  fully  lived  out  five  and 
twenty  years. 

Like  the  sons  of  many  of  the  farmers  in 
Kentucky,  though  they  were  comfortably 
fixed  as  far  as  this  world's  goods  are  con- 


8  HV  OH  DARNAB  T. 

cerned,  Hugh  Darnaby  had  his  share  of  the 
work  to  do. 

And  now,  as  the  sun  was  about  to  hide 
itself  behind  yonder  hill  he  had  quit  work, 
and  was  resting  awhile  before  proceeding  to 
the  house. 

The  war  between  the  States  had  been  go- 
ing on  since  the  early  spring.  The  "  boys  " 
from  almost  all  the  neighborhood  had  en- 
listed on  the  one  side  or  the  other  in  the 
great  struggle.  His  own  brothers,  two  of 
them  there  were  older  than  himself,  had 
espoused  the  Union  cause,  and  had  gone 
forth  to  do  battle  for  it. 

Al.  Grigsby,  living,  when  at  home,  on  the 

adjoining  farm,   had  joined    Capt.    C 's 

company,  raised  in  the  county,  and  had 
already  fought  'neath  the  "  old  flag." 

Bill  Johnston,  whose  father's  place  lay 
surrounding  the  school  house  over  there  in 
sight,  had  taken  his  gun  and  horse  and  was 
now  riding  with  Morgan,  later  known  as  the 
Confederate  general  John  H.  Morgan. 


^' 


HUGH  DARNABT.  9 

Still  there  were  a  few  youDg  men  left,  and 
among  them  Hugh  Darnaby. 

When  the  report  of  the  first  gun  had 
sounded  over  Charleston  harbor  his  heart 
had  leapt  to  his  mouth  ;  the  martial  fire  had 
burned  very  brightly  in  his  breast,  and  he 
then  had  a  great  desire  to  go  and  be  a  sol- 
dier. 

But  which  way  ?  The  question  had  been 
troubling  him  ever  since,  and  so  far  he  had 
drifted  further  and  further  away  from  finding 
a  satisfactory  answer  to  it. 

Mr.  Darnaby,  Hugh's  father,  was  a  Union 
sympathizer,  but  was  past  the  military  age, 
and  the  mother  prayed  and  plead  not  to 
lose  her  youngest  son — her  latest  born. 

She  knew  the  doubt  that  was  troubling 
Hugh's  mind,  if  the  father  did  not,  and  she 
said  and  did  everything  in  her  power  to  de- 
fer, if  not  to  prevent,  a  determination  on  his 
part. 

She  was  not  a  selfish  woman  by  any 
means,  but  she  was  a  loving  mother.     She 


10  HUGH  DARNABY. 

had  given  her  two  older  boys  to  the  service 
of  her  country,  sending  them  off  with  her 
blessing,  with  tears  and  with  many  prayers 
for  their  safety. 

And  was  she  to  be  called  upon  to  give  up 
this  one  too — her  youngest,  and  the  only 
one  left  to  her  ?  It  was  too  much.  Besides 
she  had  a  fear  that  Hugh  might  not  decide 
as  his  father  would  wish,  and  as  she  might 
wish  also.  Then  she  urged  that  some  one 
was  needed  to  overlook  the  business  of  the 
farm.  Father  was  not  as  strong  as  he  once 
was,  and  was  beginning  to  grow  old. 

Hugh  had  thought  of  all  this,  too.  As  I 
have  said,  there  were  a  few  of  the  boys  left 
at  home,  a  sufficient  number  of  them  to  act 
as  "  partners  "  to  the  girls  at  the  occasional 
dances  given  in  the  neighborhood,  and  there 
was  one  to  be  given  at  neighbor  Pendleton's 
that  evening. 

As  he  sat  upon  the  "  bars "  Hugh  took 
from  his  pocket  a  newspaper,  and  read  very 
intently  for  a  few  moments     a  great  battle 


HUGH  DARNABY.  H 

had  been  fought ;  then  casting  the  paper 
aside,  he  sat  thinking,  not  heeding  that  the 
slight  breeze  carried  the  columns  of  the 
news  to  the  most  secret  places  of  nature. 
Perhaps  he  was  dreaming.  It  struck  him 
with  almost  irresistible  force  that  two  ques- 
tions must  be  decided  by  him  this  evening. 
One  was,  should  he  go  to  the  party  at  the 
Pendletons?  the  other,  should  he  join  the 
army,  and,  if  so,  which  army? 

These  two  questions  were  to  be  answered 
in  the  order  named,  for  the  answer  to  the 
one  depended,  in  great  measure,  upon  that 
of  the  other. 

Hugh  had  been  twitted  in  the  neighbor- 
hood more  than  once  in  the  last  few 
months  on  account  of  his  staying  at  home 
while  the  other  boys  had  gone  to  the  war, 
and  by  none  more  sharply  than  by  sweet, 
witching  Annie  Pendleton,  to  whom  this 
party  was  to  be  given  by  her  father  and 
mother  to-night. 

By  the  by,  Hu^h  thought  a  great  deal 


12  HUOH  DARNABT. 

of  tljis  young  lady.  In  fact,  he  had  watched 
her  at  church,  at  home,  and  at  the  dancing 
parties ;  had  seen  her  gliding,  gracefully, 
through  the  figures  of  the  lanciers,  and  he 
had  been  her  partner  often. 

He  had  listened  to  her  sweet  voice  as  it 
rose  and  fell  in  melody,  and  filled  every 
nook  and  corner  of  the  old  church.  He 
had  seen  her  grow  up  from  a  sweet,  chubby- 
faced  little  girl  into  a  beautiful  woman.  He 
had  envied  the  winds  that  played  with  her 
brown  ringlets  and  tossed  them  from  her 
fair  forehead. 

He  had  looked  into  her  soft,  brown  eyes, 
until  he  knew  that  he  loved  her.  Loved 
her  not  with  a  passing  fancy,  but  loved  her 
with  all  his  heart. 

And  it  was  a  manly  heart,  though  not  as 
yet  much  tried.  Nothing  of  that  lore  had 
been  spoken  between  them,  but  she  knew. 
How  could  she  help  seeing  the  love  that 
"  grew  "  from  his  eyes — soulful  eyes — and 
grown  so  sad  of  late  ? 


HUGH  DARNAB  T.  13 

The  sun  had  sunk  into  peaceful  rest  by 
this  time  behind  the  hill.  The  beautiful, 
the  peaceful  day  was  dying.  The  shadows 
of  the  trees,  induced  by  the  rays  of  the 
full  moon,  had  come  to  sport  themselves  in 
the  fields. 

The  faithful  cows,  after  "  cupping  time," 
were  turning  into  the  pasture.  Here  and 
there  the  buzz  of  a  beetle  could  be  heard  as 
once  more  it  rose  to  wing  after  having  flown 
headlong  against  the  rails  of  the  fence. 

It  was  then  that  Hugh  climbed  down 
from  his  seat  on  the  "  bars,"  and  shaking 
himself  as  one  waking  from  a  dream,  walked 
toward  the  house. 

When  he  reached  it,  he  found  his  mother 
standing  in  the  porch  waiting  for  him. 
Supper  had  been  ready  for  some  time.  She 
had  been  uneasy  about  him  for  some  days 
past. 

She  had  noticed  that  he  went  about  his 
work  in  an  abstracted  and  unusually  listless 
manner,  and  that  often  it  was  necessary  to 


14  HUOH  DARNABT. 

address  him  more  than  once  in  order  to  at- 
tract his  attention  in  conversation.  She 
much  feared  that  his  doubts  as  to  his  leav- 
ing home  and  joining  the  army  were  about 
to  be  dissipated.  And  when  he  said,  as  he 
approached  her,  "  Mother  I  have  made  up 
my  mind  to  go,"  her  cheek  blanched,  and 
her  heart  seemed  to  stand  still  for  a  moment, 
ere  he  proceeded — "  to  the  party  to-night." 

Hugh  Darnaby,  like  a  great  many  of  the 
"  country  boys "  of  comfortable  means  in 
that  section  of  the  State,  owned  a  buggy  and 
horse.  In  this  instance  the  animal  was  a 
beautiful  blooded  bay,  what  is  known  in 
Kentucky  as  a  "  combined "  horse,  that  is, 
he  was  both  "  gaited,"  trained  for  the  saddle, 
and  also  to  work  in  harness. 

It  is  the  first  and  one  of  the  highest  am- 
bitions of  most  country-bred  young  men  in 
the  "  Blue  Grass "  region  to  become  the 
owner  of  a  new  buggy  and  trotter.  No 
young  man  in  society  was  fully  equipped 
without  both. 


HUGH  DABNABT.  15 

Jim,  who  by  the  by,  was  known  also  as 
Jim  Darnaby,  the  colored  boy  about  the 
place,  being  near  the  same  age  as  Hugh, — a 
little  younger  perhaps,  and  who  was  very 
fond  of  Mars  Hugh, — and  of  whom  Mars 
Hugh  was  rather  fond,  in  about  an  hour 
after  "brought "  the  horse  and  buggy  around 
to  the  "stiles,"  and  Hugh,  after  kissing  his 
mother  "good  night,"  jumped  in  and  drove 
off.  Many  a  "  coon  hunt  "  Mars  Hugh  and 
Jim  had  had  together. 


16         HUOH  DARNABY. 


CHAPTER  II. 

A  TYPICAL   COUNTRY   HOME   IN   KENTUCKY. 

The  farm  of  the  Pendletons  was  only 
about  a  mile  down  the  road  in  the  direction 
of  town,  and  Hugh's  trotter  soon  took  him 
to  their  gate. 

It  was  a  dear  old  place,  this  home  of  the 
Pendletons.  It  had  been  in  their  family 
since  not  a  great  while  after  Daniel  Boone 
came  to  Kentucky.  It  was  a  very  typical 
"Old  Kentucky  Home,"  in  the  country, 
with  its  half  dozen  graceful  elms  in  the 
yard. 

The  house  stood  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  from  the  road,  back  in  the  yard,  the 
front  portion  of  which  was  dotted  here  and 
there  with  hardy  rose  bushes.  The  drive 
through  the  yard  ran  straight  up  alongside 
of  the  fence  on  one  side  until   it  made  a 


HUGH  DARNABT.  17 

turn  just  in  front  of  the  house,  which  was 
a  two-storied  brick,  with  a  long  porch 
extending  across  the  entire  front.  A  wide, 
airy  hallway,  with  rooms  and  communicating 
doors  on  either  side,  was  one  of  the  features 
of  the  building.  To  the  left  and  in  the 
curve  formed  by  the  turn  of  the  driveway 
was  a  grove  of  locust  trees,  and  as  it 
wound  around  the  house  to  the  back  prem- 
ises, this  drive  passed  between  two  rows  of 
hollyhock  bushes.  In  the  back  lot,  through 
which  ran  a  brooklet  starting  from  a  spring 
in  the  corner  of  the  same  lot,  stood  the 
negro  quarters.  Not  so  extensive  were  they 
as  those  seen  further  south,  but  at  this  time 
accommodating  some  half  dozen  families. 
Each  having  its  little  patch  of  garden,  and 
some  with  late  autumn  flowers  of  the  hardier 
kind  growing  up  to  their  front  doors.  The 
spring  house,  too,  stood  in  this  lot,  with  its 
pans  of  cream-covered  milk  and  its  patties 
of  fresh,  sweet  butter.  Oh,  how  delightful 
it  was  to  go  into  this  spring  house  on  a  hot 


18  HUGH  DARNAB7. 

summer  day  and  drink  the  cool  milk  taken 
from  the  pan  which  had  been  half  sub- 
merged in  the  cool  water. 

To-night  as  Hugh  Daruaby  drew  up  at 
the  hitching  rack  and  handed  the  reins  to 
the  boy  waiting  to  attend  to  the  horses  of 
the  guests  as  they  arrived,  he  slipped  a 
piece  of  money  into  his  hand,  which  the 
boy  received  with  a  broad  grin  and  a  "  thank 
yer.  Mars  Hugh." 

The  windows  of  the  house  were  brightly 
lighted,  and  Hugh  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
fat  old  darkey  cook  in  the  kitchen  through 
a  side  window,  with  her  best  and  cleanest 
headkerchief  on  her  head,  directing  "  the 
girls,"  who  were  carrying  the  eatables  to 
the  dining-room.  And  he  knew,  for  such 
was  the  custom  on  such  occasions,  that  a 
bounteous  repast  would  be  spread  for  the 
guests  before  the  night  was  far  spent. 
These  people  had  not  felt  the  effects  of  the 
war. 

The    Pendletons    were    staunch    Union 


HUGH  DARNABT.  19 

people,  and  old  man  Pendleton  was  very 
bitter  against  anyone  who  held  opposite 
sentiments.  Hugh  knew  this,  and  it  added 
to  his  perplexitj  while  endeavoring  to  make 
up  his  mind  as  to  what  course  he  should 
pursue.  For  it  must  be  confessed  that  it 
was,  in  great  measure,  his  love  for  Annie 
Pendleton,  and  his  fear  that  he  might  lose 
her,  that  kept  him  vacillating  between  two 
opinions.  He  could  not  brook  her  con- 
tempt, which  he  surely  would  have  if  he 
stayed  at  home  much  longer,  and  he  feared 
to  lose  her  if  he  left,  for  he  had  reasoned 
thus  with  himself  while  thinking  deeply 
intently  on  the  matter  : 

"If  I  go  with  the  South  her  father  will 
consider  me  a  rebel  and  a  traitor.  Perhaps 
she  will  also — and,  then,  all  will  be  over 
between  us.  God  knows  that  I  have  not 
made  much  of  a  beginning  as  it  is  toward 
gaining  her  regard.  I  do  not  like  the  idea 
of  lighting  to  destroy  the  Union,  for  I  love 
the  old  Stars  and  Stripes,  and  I  think  the 


20  HUGH  DARN ABY. 

Union  should  be  preserved,  if  possible.  My 
father  would  be  pleased  if  I  should  join  the 
Federal  army.  I  might  gain  distinction  and 
come  back  and  marry  Annie,  and  all  would 
be  well.  But,  then,  I  love  the  South  and  the 
Southern  people,  and  I  believe  they  are 
right  in  the  main,  and  then  I  cannot  make 
up  my  mind  to  fight  against  them.  In  some 
important  essentials  the  cause  of  the  Union 
is  righteous,  the  issues  which  brought  about 
a  culmination  of  affairs  enlist  my  sympathies 
very  strongly  in  that  direction — at  least 
some  of  them  do.  But  there  are  other 
things  which  are  claimed  by  the  people  of 
the  Confederate  States,  the  justness  of  which 
appeal  to  my  manhood  and  to  my  love  of 
fair  play.  Weighing  the  matter  in  the  scale 
of  reason  the  balance  fails  to  bear  down 
either  way.  My  heart  goes  out  to  my  own 
people.  It  is  hard.  Oh,  it  is  hard  to  know 
what  to  do — what  it  is  right  to  do.  I  dislike 
very  much  going  against  my  father's  wishes 
and  judgment.     The  dear,  old  man,  I  love 


HUGH  DARN  A  B  T.  21 

and  respect  him  very  much  indeed,  and  I 
love  my  brothers,  and  I  should  hate  to  be 
arrayed  against  them  in  mortal  combat.  .  .  . 

"And  my  mother — oh,  my  dear  mother; 
will  she  always  love  me  ?  But  I  can  hesi- 
tate no  longer  and  keep  my  self  respect. 

"  Then,  leaving  others  to  act  for  them- 
selves as  they  think  best,  according  to  their 
honest  convictions,  and  claiming  the  same 
right  to  think  and  act  for  myself,  I  will 
throw  in  my  fortunes  with  the  '  Southern 
people.' " 

But  as  the  thought  of  Annie  Pendleton 
came  to  him,  his  heart  would  cry  out  in 
agony,  "  Oh,  my  love,  I  cannot  bear  to  lose 

you." 

Thus  cried  out  the  heart  of  Hugh 
Darnaby,  and  thus  did  cry  out  the  heart  of 
many  a  Kentucky  lad  during  that  trying 
period. 

"  I  will  speak  my  heart  to  her  to-night," 
he  said,  "  and  she  shall  decide  for  me." 

Ah !     Was   he   weak  ?      Judge    not    too 


22  HUGH  DARNABT. 

harshly  you  who  did  not  live  in  any  one  of 
the  border  States  at  the  beginning  of  the 
late  war,  when  the  opinion  in  regard  to  the 
merits  of  the  causes  for  the  great  contest 
was  very  nearly  evenly  divided  ;  where  many 
a  young  man,  and  many  a  middle-aged  man^ 
too,  was  called  on  to  decide  against  father, 
mother,  kith  and  kin,  for  what  seemed  to 
him  to  be  right,  and  where  the  heart  often 
bled  at  being  called  on  to  sever  the  dearest 
and  tenderest  ties  for  what  seemed  to  be 
the  demands  of  duty. 

Oh,  the  strong  love  of  the  Union  which 
bound  many  hearts  to  it,  whilst  the  hatred 
of  what  was  conceived  to  be  oppression 
drove  them  from  it. 

Oh,  the  sense  of  right  as  to  many  things 
which  bound  them  to  it  whilst  the  love  for 
certain  other  things  took  them  from  it. 

In  no  other  part  of  the  Union  did  indivi- 
duals know,  nor  can  they,  even  to-day,  fully 
appreciate  these  mental  struggles.  Some 
were  drawn  by  wills  stronger  than  their  own,. 


HUGE  DARNABT.  23 

while  others  decided  for  themselves,  taking 
some  great  principle  for  a  beacon  light  and 
never  loosing  sight  of  it. 

But  it  is  passed.  The  terrible  ordeal  is 
over,  and  we  will  not  stop  to  attempt  to 
argue  a  dead  issue. 

Poor  Hugh.  His  heart  was  passing 
through  the  fire.  Now,  however,  his  imme- 
diate business  was  to  get  himself,  as  soon 
as  possible,  divested  of  his  wraps,  having 
ascended  to  the  chamber  on  the  second  floor 
of  the  Pendleton  mansion  which  was  dedi- 
cated to  the  use  of  the  male  guests  on  this 
particular  night. 

He  very  soon  came  down  into  the  parlor, 
where  already  dancing  had  begun.  As  he 
entered,  bowing  to  this  acquaintance  and  to 
that  one,  his  eyes  sought  the  one  of  whom 
his  thoughts  were  full. 

Ah!  What  a  vision  of  loveliness  met  his 
gaze  as  it  rested  on  her.  There,  gracefully 
moving  to  the  gliding  step  of  one  of  Strauss' 
waltzes,  was  Annie  Pendleton. 


24  HUGH  DARNABT. 

The  flush  of  excitement  and  exercise  was 
on  her  cheek.  The  brightness  of  perfect  en- 
joyment was  in  her  eye.  The  beautiful  brown 
ringlets  were  dancing  around  her  fair  fore- 
head. Nothing  in  all  that  Ingleside  was 
fairer  to  look  upon  than  that  country  girl. 
No  smile  was  sweeter  or  more  witching. 
No  look  so  bright. 

The  little  cupids  seemed  to  chase  each 
other  from  the  corners  of  her  mouth,  and  to 
play  hide-and-seek  among  her  brown  tresses. 

Ah !  Those  lovely,  soft,  loving  brown  eyes. 
They  were  sparkling  now  with  enjoyment, 
but  they  could  be  very  confiding,  trusting, 
loving.  There  was  a  soul  that  looked  from 
those  eyes  and  told  of  thoughts,  at  times, 
deep  down  beneath  the  surface.  Neverthe- 
less they  could  flash  fire  when  some  story  of 
wrong  was  told  to  her  or  enacted  in  her 
presence.  Then,  again,  they  could  be  very 
tender  when  she  listened  to  some  tale  of 
sorrow. 

Shall  I  confess  it  ?     I  am  an  old,  staid, 


HUGH  DARNABY.  25 

plodding  personage,  I  love  a  brown  eye — 
a  soft,  brown  eye.  The  heavenly  blue  of 
some  eyes  have  been  extoled  ;  their  beauty 
has  been  sung  by  poets  from  time  im- 
memorial. But,  after  all,  for  me,  give  me 
the  soulful  brown  eye.  Give  me  the  pathos 
which  lies  in  it ;  the  love,  the  unspeakable 
love  which  beams  from  it ;  the  kindliness 
which  indicates  the  soul  beneath. 


26  HUGH  DABNABT. 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE   DANCE   AT   PENDLETON's. 

Hugh  Darnaby  loved  brown  eyes,  too,  es- 
pecially those  of  Annie  Pendleton,  and  as 
she  caught  his  glance  in  whirling  by  she 
bowed  in  recognition,  with  her  most  witch- 
ing smile,  and  he  thought  that  a  man  might  do 
great  things  for  her  sake.  At  the  same  time 
a  pang  of  jealousy  shot  through  his  heart, 
for  what  was  his  surprise  to  see  her  form 
supported  through  the  waltz  on  the  arm  of 
a  handsome  young  man  in  the  uniform  of  an 
United  States  soldier. 

Yes,  he  was  handsome — Hugh  had  to  ac- 
knowledge that.  This  young  lieutenant  was 
a  temporary  guest  of  the  Pendleton  house- 
hold, and  had  claimed  the  honor  of  the  first 
waltz  with  the  fair  young  daughter  of  his 
host. 

The  blue  uniform  and  the  brass  buttons, 


HUGH  DABNABY.  27 

as  well  as  his  shoulder  straps,  at  once  indi- 
cated his  rank,  and  revealed  the  cause  to 
which  he  had  offered  his  services.  He  was 
the  son  of  an  old  friend  and  college  mate  of 
Mr.  Pendleton  now  living  in  Indiana,  and 
happening  to  be  passing  through  the  State 
on  his  way  to  join  his  command  at  the  fronts 
and  having  a  few  days  to  spare,  he  had  come 
to  pay  a  short  visit  to  his  father's  old  friend. 
Hugh  stood  watching  the  couple.  Both  were 
good  waltzers,  and  the  very  poetry  of  motion 
seemed  to  be  exemplified  in  their  movoments. 
Suddenly  recollecting  himself,  he  walked 
into  the  rear  parlor  and  spoke  to  Mr.  and 
Mrs,  Pendleton,  who  gave  him  a  warm  wel- 
come, for  their  families  were  very  friendly  at 
that  time. 

"  Well,  Hugh,"  said  Mr.  Pendleton,  "  I  am 
glad  to  see  you.  You  see  that  Mrs.  Pendle- 
ton and  myself  are  watching  the  young  peo- 
ple enjoy  themselves.  Well,  well,  we  are 
young  only  once  in  our  lives,  so  you  must 
go  and  make  the   best  of  it  with  the  rest. 


28  HUGH  DARN  A  B  Y. 

You  must  not  keep  some  particular  maiden's 
heart  in  suspense  by  standing  too  long  talk- 
ing to  the  '  old  folks.'  " 

Mrs.  Pendleton  gave  him  her  welcome,  too, 
inquiring  concerning  his  mother's  health. 
Hugh  then  passed  on  ;  but  he  did  not  im- 
mediately join  the  dancers.  He  went  un- 
noticed up  to  the  retiring  room,  and  sat  there 
smoking  a  cigar  in  silence  for  half  an  hour. 
He  was  a  little  bit  sullen,  as  well  as  silent 
for  awhile.  He  was  somewhat  jealous  of 
the  young  ofl&cer,  for  he  was  not,  as  yet, 
much  of  a  man  of  the  world.  At  the  end  of 
that  time  a  different  mood  took  possession 
of  him,  and  hot  and  flushed  with  the  fever 
of  jealousy  and  a  kind  of  resentment,  he 
went  back  into  the  parlor. 

Once  there  he  sought  out  and  spoke  to 
Annie  Pendleton,  and  asked  her  for  the  next 
dance.  She  was  engaged  to  dance  with  the 
the  young  lieutenant  again.  A  hot  rush  of 
blood  to  his  face  was  the  only  indication, 
outwardly,    of    the   tide    of     bitter    feeling 


HUGH  DARNABY.  29 

which  now  filled  his  heart.  He  merely 
bowed  and  said,  "  I  am  unfortunate  this 
evening,  Miss  Pendleton." 

She  noticed  the  huskiness  in  his  voice  as 
he  said  it,  and  she  felt  sorry  for  him,  for  she 
surmised  what  the  trouble  was. 

But  then  she  thought,  "  Why  should  he 
feel  annoyed  ?  He  had  no  more  right  to 
expect  that  she  would  reserve  a  dance  for 
him  than  any  one  else.  She  was  in  no  way 
bound  to  him.  Why,  indeed,  should  she 
care  if  he  seemed  hurt  and  disappointed  ?  " 

She  had  a  tender,  sympathizing,  little 
heart,  nevertheless.  And  then  she  had 
fancied  that  Hugh  did  care  a  good  deal 
about  her,  and,  to  tell  the  truth,  she  was 
not  altogether  indifferent  to  him.  She  had 
begun  lately  to  like  his  straightforward, 
honest  nature  very  much.  She  thought  to 
herself  that  she  did  care  just  a  little  bit  that 
he  should  feel  hurt. 

But  what  could  she  do  ?  It  was  noticed 
that  for  the  balance  of  the  evening  Hugh 


30  HUGH  DARNABY. 

Darnaby  was  the  most  untiring  dancer  in  the 
room.  He  even  became  brilliant  in  his  con- 
versation. And  he  did  something  he  had 
never  done  before — he  flirted  promiscuously 
with  most  of  the  girls  present  and  with 
whom  he  danced  to  an  unprecedented  ex- 
tent. Usually  he  was  rather  quiet  and  dig- 
nified, even  on  such  occasions  as  this,  and, 
therefore,  his  present  mood  and  actions  were 
noted  and  remarked  upon  by  more  than  one 
person. 

With  the  flush  of  feverish  excitement  on 
his  cheek  he  entered  into  the  dancing  with  a 
reckless,  devil-may-care  abandon,  foreign  to 
his  nature. 

When  the  invitation  came  to  the  guests  to 
walk  into  the  dining-room  where  the  re- 
freshments were  ready  on  the  table,  he 
noticed  that  the  young  lieutenant  "went  in" 
with  Annie  Pendleton ;  so  he  offered  his  es- 
cort to  the  next  loveliest  girl  in  the  company, 
Florence  Grigsby.  And  no  lady  present  was 
waited  on  with  more  assiduous  care  than 


HUGH  DA  RNAB  Y.  31 

she.  While  partaking  of  the  repast,  con- 
versation flowed  on  iu  various  channels  un- 
til a  subject  was  broached  which  checked 
his  volubility,  at  least  for  a  time. 

"Annie  Pendleton  is  looking  lovely  to- 
night. Don't  you  think  so,  Mr.  Darnaby  ?  " 
said  Florence.  "And  isn't  Lieutenant  Gray 
handsome?  They  make  a  fine  looking 
couple,  and  he  seems  to  appreciate  the  fact." 
Florence  Grigsby  wanted  to  tease  Hugh,  but 
she  had  no  idea  that  the  shaft  she  had  sent 
flying  was  striking  as  deep  as  it  was. 

The  young  soldier  was  the  lion  of  the 
hour.  Evidently  the  brass  buttons  had  car- 
ried the  day  with  the  girls,  and  it  seemed  to 
Hugh  that  Annie  in  particular  had  been 
vanquished  by  them. 

Of  course,  all  this  was  somewhat  unrea- 
sonable on  his  part.  Lieutenant  Gray  was 
the  guest  of  the  house,  and  was,  of  course, 
entitled  to  more  than  ordinary  attention 
from  every  member  of  the  household. 

If  Hugh  had  not  have  been  jealously  in 


32  HUOH  DARNABY. 

love  he  would  have  fully  appreciated  this. 
He  would  have  known  that  the  particular 
attentions  of  Annie  Pendleton  to  Lieutenant 
Gray,  which  seemed  so  marked  to  him,  need 
.not  mean  anything  more  than  common  po- 
liteness. But  Hugh  thought,  disconsolately, 
that  if  he  wished  to  have  any  chance  at  all 
of  winning  Miss  Pendleton  he  must  become 
a  soldier. 

In  this  particular  mood  he  again  retired 
to  the  dressing-room  and  sat  alone,  torn  by 
conflicting  thoughts  and  emotions.  Before 
he  left  the  room  again  his  determination 
was  taken.  He  would  go  to  the  war  and 
he  would  go  with  the  South.  If  Annie 
would  not  love  him  she  should  at  least 
respect  him. 

Such  were  his  thoughts  and  such  was  his 
determination,  and  nothing  could  now  shake 
or  change  him  in  his  course.  Eeturning  to 
the  parlor  he  saw  Annie  Pendleton  stand- 
ing, for  the  moment,  speaking  to  her  mother. 
Hugh's  feelings  were  somewhat  toned  down 


HUGH  DARNABY.  33 

by  this  time.  He  had  had  time  to  reflect, 
and  although  a  feeling  of  pique  and  resent- 
ment still  filled  his  breast  on  account  of  the 
cool  treatment  which  he  conceived  that  he 
had  received  from  her,  he  could  not  bear 
the  idea  of  going  away  without  saying  a 
word  to  her ;  without,  at  least,  having  a  last 
dance  with  her.  He  argued  that  he  might 
never  see  her  again,  and  if  it  so  happened 
that  he  did,  she  might  then  be  the  wife  of 
Lieutenant  Gray. 

,  He  went  immediately  over  to  where  she 
stood  and  said,  "  Miss  Pendleton,  am  I  in- 
terrupting ?" 

"  Oh,  not  at  all,  Mr.  Darnaby,"  she  re- 
plied ;  "  I  was  only  resting  for  a  few  mo- 
ments." 

"And,"  said  he,  "  are  you  too  tired  to 
give  me  this  last  waltz  ?" 

"  No,"  she  answered,  "  I  am  not  too  tired. 
I  will  waltz  with  you  with  pleasure." 

As  they  moved  away  he  said,  "  I  wished 
particularly  to  have  this  waltz,  because  we 


34  HUOH  DARNABY. 

have  not  danced  together  to-night,  and  be- 
cause it  may  be  the  last  we  shall  ever  have 
together." 

Turning  those  brown  eyes  of  hers  up  to 
his,  she  asked  :  "  Why  so  ?" 

It  is  rather  difficult  to  carry  on  a  pro- 
tracted conversation  while  waltzing,  so  he 
only  answered,  "  When  the  waltz  is  over,  if 
you  will  go  with  me  to  the  library,  I  will  tell 
you.     This  much  now,  I  am  going  away." 

And  then  the  waltz  began.  As  I  have 
said  it  was  no  time  for  connected  conversa- 
tion, and  Hugh  gave  himself  up  to  the  plea- 
sure of  the  moment.  He  would  not  let  him- 
self think  of  anything  else.  His  arm  was 
around  her  waist,  and  drawing  her  to  him 
he  could  have  wished  that  the  waltz  would 
last  forever.  But  everything  in  this  life 
must  come  to  an  end,  even  the  most  plea- 
surable. In  fact,  it  would  seem  that  the 
most  pleasurable  are  the  fleetest. 

Presently  the  strains  of  the  music  ceased 


HUGH  BARN  A  BY.  35 

and  the  last  waltz  was  over,  and  Hugh  Dar- 
naby  was  leading  Annie  Pendleton  to  a 
room  across  the  hall  from  the  parlor.  She 
wished  to  hear  something  of  his  plan  for 
going  away,  and  as  he  had  promised  more 
information  in  regard  to  his  intention,  she 
made  no  objection  to  leaving  the  parlor  with 
him. 

Said  he,  as  they  passed  across  the  hall, 
"  I  thought  that  you  would  like  to  rest  for  a 
few  moments,  and  I  wished  to  say  good-by 
to  you,  and  to  tell  you  where  and  why  I  am 
going  away,  if  you  care  to  hear." 

Said  she  in  reply,  "  You  know,  Mr.  Dar- 
naby,  that  if  you  are  going  away  for  any 
length  of  time,  I  should  wish  to  bid  you 
good-by,  and  I  shall  listen  to  anything  you 
choose  to  tell  me  in  regard  to  your  plans 
with  pleasure,  provided  I  am  not  kept  too 
long  from  my  guests." 

"  I  shall  not  detain  you  long,  Miss  Annie," 
said  he. 

"  Perhaps,"  she  remarked,  "  you  are  go- 


36  HUGH  DARNABY. 

ing  to  the  war?  In  which  event  we  girls 
will  lose  a  very  agreeable  escort,  and  you 
know  they  are  in  demand  in  these  days." 

"  Will  you  take  this  chair  near  the  win- 
dow?" said  he,  at  the  same  time  seating 
himself  in  the  window  sill,  which  was  set  in 
a  little  recess  in  the  wall. 

He  then  resumed  :  "  Yes,  I  am  going  into 
the  army,  and  I  asked  you  to  come  out  here 
to  tell  you  so  and  to  say  farewell,  for  we 
may  never  meet  again.  Of  course,  I  cannot 
expect  you  to  feel  in  this  matter  as  I  do  ; 
you  are  not  going  to  leave  father,  mother, 
kith  and  kin,  and  all.  You  are  not  about 
to  sever  the  tenderest  ties  as  I  am  about  to 
do.  You  are  not  about  to  take  a  step  which 
would  probably  blast  a  very  dear  hope,  only 
a  hope,  though  one  which  had  grown  very 
dear  to  you." 

"  Mr.  Darnaby,"  said  she,  as  he  paused, 
"  I  don't  understand  you  exactly  ;  but,"  con- 
tinued she  testily,  "if  I  had  such  grave 
reasons  for  not  becoming  a  soldier  as  you 


HUGH  DARNABY.  37 

seem  to  have  I  most  certainly  would  not 
become  one." 

At  the  time  her  voice  was  toned  to  a  very 
perceptible  pitch  of  scorn.  Hugh  did  not 
fail  to  notice  it  and  hasten  to  exclaim  that 
she  seemed  to  mistake  the  motive  for  his 
hesitancy. 

"  If  Miss  Pendleton  will  but  hear  me  for  a 
moment  longer  I  shall  endeavor  to  have  her 
understand  my  hesitancy  about  joining  the 
army. 

"  I  must  acknowledge  that  it  is  a  very 
serious  matter  with  me.  In  the  first  place  I 
am  going  to  take  a  step  that  will  perhaps 
place  a  gulf  between  my  own  father  and 
myself.  My  mother's  dear  heart  will  bleed 
at  what  she  will  consider,  no  doubt,  the  blind 
folly  and  disobedience  of  her  own  child. 
Then,  again,  I  shall  lose  the  regard  and 
esteem  of  your  father,  which  I  should  be 
very  reluctant  to  do,  because  I  love  his  only 
daughter  very,  very  much,  and  had  hoped 
in   time  to   win  some  return.     Yes,  Annie 


38  HUGH  DARNABT. 

Pendleton,  I  do  love  you,  and  have  loved 
you  from  the  time  we  were  children  together. 
I  have  never  spoken  to  you  on  the  subject 
before,  because  I  did  not  feel  that  the  time 
had  come  for  so  doing,  and  then  as  time 
went  on  and  you  grew  to  be  so  beautiful  I 
began  to  see  how  little  I  had  to  offer  in 
return  for  what  I  might  ask,  or  to  give  in 
return  for  what  I  might  be  so  fortunate  as 
to  receive.  But  now  I  could  not  go  away 
without  speaking. 

"  I  did  feel  hurt  and  wounded  to-night 
when  you  did  not  dance  with  me,  and  I  felt 
that  there  was  no  place  in  your  heart  for  me. 
I  would  ask  you  now  if  you  could  not  love  me 
a  little ;  but,  in  honesty  to  you  and  to 
myself,  I  must  tell  you,  though  I  suppose 
you  have  guessed  already,  that  I  am  going 
South. 

"  It  seems  that  what  I  am  going  to  do  is 
the  right  thing  for  me  to  do,  and  therefore 
the  only  manly  course  left.  Perhaps  now 
you  can  divine,  partly,  at  least,  why  I  have 


HUGH  DARNABY.  39 

stayed  at  home  so  long,  allowing  others  to 
go  before.  I  know  that  cowardly  motives 
have  been  attributed  to  me,  and  when  you 
have  sometimes  twitted  me  as  a  stay-at-home 
it  has  cut  me  like  a  knife.  And  now  if  you 
don't  love  me  it  seems  as  if  you  should  at 
least  respect  my  reasons  for  the  step  that  I 
am  about  to  take,  and  also  my  reasons  for 
hesitating  so  long." 

She  was  much  surprised ;  not  gi-eatly  at 
his  declaration  of  love,  but  at  his  announce- 
ment that  he  intended  to  join  the  Confederate 
army.  She  knew  that  Hugh  Darnaby  loved 
her  before  he  had  spoken,  for  he  had  shown 
it  in  many  ways,  almost  unconsciously  to 
himself  perhaps,  but  understood  by  her 
nevertheless.  Therefore,  as  I  have  said,  she 
was  not  so  much  surprised  that  he  should 
have  spoken  at  this  time  on  that  subject. 
But,  knowing  his  family  to  be  Union  people, 
and  that  two  of  his  brothers  were  already  in 
the  Federal  army,  she  naturally  supposed 
that  he  held  the  same  views   politically  as 


40  HUOH  DARNABT. 

they  did.  She  was  an  earnest,  thoughtful 
little  woman  on  occasion,  as  well  as  a  bright 
and  honest  one  ;  and  honesty  and  candor  in 
any  one  else  met  with  appreciation  from  her. 
Still  she  hesitated,  and  he  finally  asked : 
"  Have  you  nothing  to  say  to  me  ?  " 
.  She  answered  by  asking  a  question  of 
him,  "What  shall  I  say,  Mr.  Darnaby?  You 
have  certainly  taken  me  by  surprise." 

"  Then,  do  you  mean  to  say,"  interrupted  he, 
"that  you  never  suspected  my  attachment 
for  you  ?  But  perhaps  you  may  love  some 
one  else.  If  so,  forgive  me  for  speaking  of 
my  love.  You  may  hate  me  for  being  a 
rebel,  and  this  may  be  an  unfortunate  time 
for  urging  my  suit.  Has  my  determination 
and  the  confession  of  it  to  you  made  a  dif- 
ference in  my  standing  in  your  esteem  ?  " 

And  thus  she  answered  him  :  "  It  certainly 
does  make  a  difference,  Mr.  Darnaby,  but  not 
to  the  extent  that  you  seem  to  infer." 

"Then,"  interrupted  he  again,  "you  do 
love  me,  or  rather  you  might  have  given  me 


HUGH  DARN ABY.  41 

some  hope  had  my  decision  been  different. 
Is  that  it  ?  At  least  you  do  not  despise  me. 
Say  this  much  at  any  rate." 

"  I  was  going  to  say,"  replied  she,  "  that  I 
respect  you  and  your  convictions,  for  I  believe 
that  you  are  honest ;  that  you  believe  that 
you  are  doing  right.  I  was  disposed  to  be 
offended  when  you  asked  me  if  I  loved  any 
one  else,  but  I  see  you  asked  from  a  proper 
motive,  and  I  will  answer  j^ou  truthfully.  I 
do  not  love  any  one  else  in  the  way  in  which 
you  mean." 

Then  he  drew  closer  to  her  and  took  her 
hand,  which  she  did  not  seem  to  notice,  and 
cried  out  in  a  suppressed  voice,  "  Can  you, 
will  you,  love  me  ?  Annie,  my  whole  heart 
goes  out  to  you.  My  darling,  give  me  your 
love,  and  then  whatever  befalls  me  I  can 
stand  it." 

And  then  he  continued  vehemently,  "I  do 
not  love  you  with  a  sudden  fancy,  for  this 
love  for  you  has  grown  as  I  grew,  and  has 
strengthened  with  my  manhood.    Every  fibre 


42  HUGH  DARNABT. 

of  my  being  thrills  responsive  to  thoughts  of 
you.  I  feel  that  the  life  which  I  have  lived 
here  has  been  very  narrow,  very  unworthy 
to  offer  to  you  to  share  with  me,  but  if  you 
love  me  I  know  that  I  can  widen  its  compass, 
that  I  can  do  things  worthy  in  some  degree 
of  such  a  blessing.  Do  you  bid  me  stay  ?  " 
"  No,"  she  hastened  to  interrupt,  "  I  do  not 
bid  you  stay.  God  forbid  that  I  should  ever 
attempt  to  keep  a  man  from  doing  that  which 
he  conceived  to  be  his  duty  ;  that  I  should 
ever  endeavor  to  turn  him  from  that  which  he 
had  convinced  himself  to  be  the  right  thing  to 
do."  And  catching  something  of  his  enthu- 
siasm and  intensity  of  feeling,  she  continued : 
"  If  my  love  would  keep  you  from  acting  a 
manly  part  it  would  not  be  worth  having. 
You  were  better  without  it.  You  know  my 
father's  strong  convictions  and  his  prejudices 
if  you  will  Hugh,  and  that  he  would  never 
countenance  Avhat  you  ask.  I  am  not  in- 
different to  you  but  I  cannot  give  you  my 
love  now," 


HUGH  DARNABF.  43 

"  Oh,  Annie,"  he  cried,  "  it  is  hard,  but 
you  have  shown  me  plainer  than  ever  where 
my  duty  lies.  I  will  not  urge  you  now,  but 
oh,  when  the  war  is  over,  no  matter  who  is 
conquerer,  then — then  will  you  let  me  seek 
you  once  again  ?  " 

And,  as  he  drew  her  to  him  once  again, 
she  whispered,  "  Yes,  Hugh,  for  I  love  you 
even  now." 

Just  at  this  moment  a  voice  was  heard 
calling  for  Miss  Annie.  It  was  Lieutenant 
Gray  claiming  her  for  the  last  dance — the 
Virginia  reel.  And  Hugh  Darnaby,  hastily 
releasing  her  and  whispering  good- by  dar- 
ling, stooped  to  pick  up  a  pink  bow  which 
had  fallen  to  the  floor.  This  he  placed  in 
his  pocket — no  jealousy  now — and  as  he  did 
so  Lieutenant  Gray  entered  the  room. 


44         HUGH  DARNABT. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

HUGH  BIDS  HIS  MOTHER   FAEEWELL    AND  LEAVES 
FOR  THE  ARMY. 

It  was  with  a  sad  heart,  and  yet  a  lighter 
one,  that  Hugh  went  home  that  night.  The 
moon,  which  was  still  brightly  shining  high 
up  in  the  heavens,  seemed  to  smile  on  him. 
And  the  very  night  air  whispered  to  him 
pleasant  fancies. 

When  he  reached  home  he  found  that  the 
back  door  of  the  house  had  been  left  unlocked, 
and  that  there  was  a  lamp  on  the  table  in  the 
hall  burning  low  for  him.  He  also  found 
that  his  mother  was  still  up  and  waiting. 

She  wished  to  have  a  serious  talk  with 
him.  She  had  felt  for  some  time  that  she 
must  speak  again  soon  or  it  would  be  too 
late,  and  to-night  she  had  had  a  kind  of  a  pre- 
sentiment that  things  in  relation  to  her  son's 


HUGH  DARNABT.  45 

future  movements  were  about  to  culminate. 
So  she  met  Hugh  in  the  hall  and  said  to  him : 
"  My  son,  step  into  the  dining-room,  I  wish 
to  have  a  talk  with  you." 

"  Certainly,  mother,"  said  he,  "  I  will  bring 
the  lamp."  And  taking  a  seat  he  began  : 
"  And  now  what  is  it,  mother  dear  ?  It  must 
be  something  serious  which  keeps  you  up  so 
late.  Have  you  heard  anything  very  naughty 
about  me  which  you  want  to  scold  me  for  ?  " 

He  spoke  this  jestingly,  at  the  same  time 
he  felt  that  he  could  make  a  pretty  shrewd 
guess  as  to  what  the  subject  was  which  she 
would  broach. 

"  No,  my  son,"  she  answered,  "  I  have  not 
heard  anything  bad  about  you,  but  I  have 
seen  that  you  have  been  troubled  very  much 
lately  and  I  think  I  know  what  it  has  been 
about.  Now  you  should  confide  in  your 
mother,  for  you  will  never  have  a  better 
friend.  You  know  that  I  love  you,  my  boy, 
and  that  you  will  have  my  sympathy  in 
whatever   concerns  you.     I  think  that  you 


46  HUGH  DARNAB  Y. 

are  making  your  plans  to  leave  us  ;  am  I  not 
right?" 

"  Well,  mother,"  he  replied,  "  perhaps  I 
should  have  confided  my  troubles  to  you, 
for  possibly  you  could  have  saved  me  a  great 
deal  of  worry.  But  would  not  this  have 
'  been  a  very  selfish  course  to  pursue  ?  I  did 
not  wish  to  grieve  you,  and  if  I  say  now  that 
you  have  guessed  rightly  I  am  afraid  that  1 
shall  do  so.  But  it  cannot  be  helped  now 
and  I  must  be  candid  with  you.  I  am  going 
into  the  army,  and  I  go  to-morrow.  I  had 
intended  to  go  without  telling  you,  only  leav- 
ing a  note  to  explain  my  sudden  departure. 
I  did  hate  to  leave  without  your  blessing, 
mother,  still  I  fear  I  was  not  altogether 
certain  that  I  should  obtain  it  after  you 
knew  all.  And  even  now  I  hardly  know  how 
to  tell  you  the  rest.  I  cannot  expect  much 
consideration  from  father.  I  don't  think 
that  he  would  appreciate  my  earnest  con- 
viction in  this  matter,  for  it  is  hard  even 
now  for  him  to  consider  me  -anything  but  a 


HUGH  DARNABY.  47 

boy.  And  I  was  afraid  that  he  might  say 
things  which  I  could  not  listen  to  calmly, 
and  that  I  might  be  led  to  retort  in  such 
manner  as  that  I  should  regret  for  the 
balance  of  my  life.  So  I  thought  it  best  not 
to  tell  any  one  here  that  I  was  going  to  the 
Confederate  army." 

"  My  son !  Oh,  my  son,"  cried  the  mother, 
"you  will  certainly  break  your  father's  heart ; 
mine  is  already  broken.  And  your  brothers, 
what  will  they  think  of  you  ?  Oh,  my  son, 
why  will  you  do  it  ?" 

And  the  poor  lady  broke  down  utterly  and 
sobbed  as  if  her  heart  were  breaking  indeed. 
The  reference  to  what  his  brothers  would 
think  of  his  course  roused  all  the  antago- 
nism in  Hugh's  nature,  and  he  answered 
hastily,  "  I  do  not  care  what  they  think  so 
long  as  I  feel  that  I  am  right."  But  seeing 
the  great  sorrow  in  his  mother's  eyes,  he 
finished  thus  :  "I  do  care  very  much  what 
you  care  and  think,  my  mother.  Consider- 
ation for  your  feelings  in  this  matter  has 


48  HUGH  DARNAB  T. 

been  one  of  the  chief  reasons  for  my  hesi- 
tancy, and  fear  of  your  displeasure  one  of 
the  greatest  impediments  in  the  way  towards 
making  up  my  mind  as  to  what  I  should  do. 
It  was  because  of  my  love  for  you  that  I 
have  stayed  at  home  so  long.  But  now, 
mother,  dear,  I  must  go  ;  I  think  that  it  is 
right ;  that  it  is  my  duty  to  do  so.  I  would 
not  be  any  son  of  yours  or  of  my  father's 
either  if  I  hesitated  longer.  Mother,  won't 
you  at  least  give  me  your  blessing  ?  With 
it  I  can  do  what  I  conceive  to  be  right ;  with- 
out it  I  should  feel  miserable  and  could 
only  half  fulfil  my  destiny.  With  a  mother's 
discernment  she  saw  that  his  decision  had 
indeed  been  made,  and  she  understood  him 
well  enough  to  know  that  even  if  out  of  love 
for  her  he  were  to  remain  at  home,  he  would 
be  self-abased  and  ashamed  to  raise  his 
head  among  his  associates.  And  she  dried 
her  tears  and  her  love  conquered.  She  un- 
derstood and  respected  his  wish  to  do  what 
seemed    right    to    him,    even    though    she 


HUGH  DARNABY.  49 

diflfered  with  him.  She  was  a  woman  of 
strong  character  and  justly  balanced  mind. 
She  took  her  boy's  head  upon  her  lap  and 
brushed  his  hair  back  from  his  temples  with 
her  fingers,  which  had  been  wont  so  often 
to  soothe  his  boyish  troubles,  and  spoke 
soothing  words  to  him,  for  he  had  fallen 
upon  his  knees  before  her  and  was  sobbing 
out  his  heart  like  a  boy.  As  she  passed 
her  hand  over  his  brow  great  beads  of  perspi- 
ration, which  had  been  drawn  to  the  surface 
by  the  agony  of  the  inward  struggle  which 
was  racking  him,  moistened  her  slender 
fingers.  They  remained  in  this  attitude  for 
some  little  time,  and  then  she  spoke.  "  If 
you  think  it  right  my  poor  boy  you  must  go. 
Yes,  go ;  and  take  my  blessing,  a  mother's 
blessing  with  you,  and  whatever  befalls  you 
remember  always  that  I  am  thinking  of  you, 
and  praying  for  you  and  for  your  safety.  I 
would  rather  that  your  decision  might  have 
been  diflerent,  but  you  are  a  man  now  and 
must  judge  for  yourself." 


50  HUGH  DARN ABY. 

Presently  she  continued,  "  Probably  you 
had  better  not  mention  your  intentions  to 
your  father.  And  now,  good-night,  my  boy, 
and  may  God  bless  and  keep  you." 

"Good-by,  mother,"  he  cried,  "I  thank 
you  for  your  kind  words,  and  I  shall  not 
forget  them.  Ask  father  to  forgive  me  if  he 
can.  And,  mother,  tell  her — tell  Annie  Pen- 
dleton that  at  least  she  shall  not  be  ashamed 
to  acknowledge  that  she  has  ever  known 
Hugh  Darnaby." 

And  the  mother  understood  that  he  was 
making  another  great  sacrifice  on  the  altar 
of  duty. 

He  went  upstairs  to  his  bed-room — he  did 
not  want  a  light — and  she  saw  him  enter  his 
door,  and  she  sighed  half  inaudibly,  "  My 
poor  boy,  my  latest  born,  they  have  taken 
them  all." 

Hugh  walked  the  floor  until  within  an 
hour  before  daybreak,  when  overcome  by 
mental  exhaustion  he  threw  himself  on  his 
bed  without  removing  his  clothing,  and  fell 
into  a  deep  sleep. 


HUGH  DARNABY.  51 

Jim  was  surprised  next  morning  to  see  bis 
young  master  walk  into  the  stable  yard 
shortly  after  daylight,  and  at  receiving  the 
order  to  saddle  his  master's  horse,  Joe,  im- 
mediately. Wondering,  the  negro  obeyed 
the  order,  and  in  a  few  minutes  Hugh  was 
mounted  and  ready  to  start.  Taking  the 
bridle  reins  into  his  hands  he  leaned  over 
the  horse's  side  and  said,  "  Good-by,  Jim, 
I  am  going  away  for  a  few  days,  perhaps 
longer.  You  have  been  a  good  boy  to  me. 
Take  this  to  remember  me  by,"  and  he  handed 
Jim  a  new  crisp  five-dollar  bill,  "  and  don't 
forget  me." 

"  Say,  Mars  Hugh,"  said  Jim,  coming 
close  to  the  horse's  side  and  taking  the 
money,  at  the  same  time  thanking  him  for 
it,  "  Say,  Mars  Hugh,  I  s'picions  whar'  you's 
gwine,  cause  I  done  seed  dat  you  was 
troubled  in  you'  mind,  and  I  'lowed  dat 
Mars  Tom  and  Mars  Geoge  neber  went  way 
dis  way.  An'  I  don  keer  whar  you  is  gwine, 
I  knows  you  wants  somebody  to  take  keer  of 


52  HUGH  DARN ABY. 

Joe.  An' — an'  1  wants  ter  ax  yer  to  take 
me  wid  yer." 

"  No,  Jim,"  answered  Hugh,  "  I  must  go 
without  you  this  time.  You  must  stay  here 
and  help  to  take  care  of  the  place  until  I 
come  back." 

"  Good-by,  den,  Mars  Hugh,  Jim  ain* 
gwine  ter  furgit  yer,"  and  the  boy  turned 
away  toward  the  stable  to  hide  the  tears 
which  were  standing  thick  in  his  honest  eyes, 
and  ready  to  roll  down  his  shiny  black 
cheeks.  As  he  moved  on  shaking  his  head 
mournfully,  Hugh  rode  away  toward  the 
front  gate.  He  paused  as  he  opened  it,  and 
casting  his  eye  up  in  the  direction  of  the 
house,  saw  his  mother  standing  at  one  of  the 
upper  windows.  He  threw  a  kiss  to  her  as 
he  rode  through  the  gate.  She  waved  her 
handkerchief  at  him,  and  then  he  was  gone. 

Hugh  carried  this  picture,  the  last  glance 
at  his  old  home  and  the  last  glimpse  of  his 
mother,  with  him  through  many  long  and 
eventful  days. 


HUGH  DABNABY.  53 

He  took  the  road  leading  to  town,  and 
passing  Mr.  Pendleton's  house  he  stopped 
hesitatingly.  He  had  hoped  against  hope 
that  he  might  catch  a  glimpse  of  Annie, 
but  it  was  too  early  in  the  morning.  Be- 
sides he  had  not  told  her  what  time  of  day 
he  would  leave  or  she  might  have  seen  him 
for  a  few  minutes  ;  but  now  she  was  sleep- 
ing peacefully  after  the  excitement  and 
fatigue  of  the  night  before. 

He  saw  two  or  three  of  the  servants  mov- 
ing about  the  house  and  that  was  all.  Then 
putting  spurs  to  his  horse  he  was  in  an  in- 
stant being  borne  along  as  if  on  the  wings 
of  the  wind,  and  very  soon  the  town  was  in 
sight,  speed  was  slackened,  and  the  noble 
animal  he  bestrode  was  given  a  short  breath- 
ing spell. 

One  of  the  negro  girls  who  waited  on  Miss 
Annie  said  that  morning  while  putting  her 
young  mistress'  room  to  rights,  "  Sam  say 
he  seed  Mars  Hugh  Darnaby  goin'  by  early 
dis   mornin'    like    somthin'  wus   arter   him. 


54  HUOH  DARNABT. 

Wonder  wus  some  on  um  sick  down  ter 
Mars  Darnaby's?  Sam  say  Mars  Hugh 
wus  ridin  Joe,  an  dat  Joe  got  ter  be  mighty 
good  hoss  ter  keep  up  dat  gait  ve'y  long." 

And  Annie  Pendleton  knew  now  that 
Hugh  Darnaby  had  gone  sure  enough,  and 
she  also  remembered  her  promise  to  him. 


HUGH  BA RNAB  Y.  55 


CHAPTER  V. 

ME.  PENDLETON    AND  MR.  DARNABY  LEAVE  HOME 
AT  THE  APPROACH  OF  THE  CONFEDERATES. 

Hugh  Darnaby,  among  the  few  young 
men,  comparatively  speaking,  and  really 
forming  the  exceptions  to  the  general  rule 
at  that  time  and  in  that  part  of  the  country, 
had  had  a  collegiate  education.  He  had 
delved  to  some  extent  into  the  mysteries  of 
higher  mathematics.  Even  the  Odes  of 
Horace  were  not  altogether  unfamiliar  to 
him,  and  he  greatly  appreciated  the  beauties 
of  Moore  and  of  Burns.  He  had  actually 
read  "  Miles  Standish,"  and  had  learned  to 
love  the  gentle  but  wise  Puritan  maid  Pris- 
cilla,  and  he  did  not  blame  her  for  marrying 
John  Alden.  In  fact,  he  had  had  a  good 
education,  and  had  read  to  some  advantage 
since  his  college  days  were  over ;  and  I  be- 


56  HUGH  DARNABT. 

lieve  this  is  making  a  very  fair  showing  for 
a  Kentucky  bred  young  man  of  those  days. 

Early  as  it  was  when  he  reached  town  he 
was  soon  joined  by  a  couple  of  other  young 
men,  his  acquaintances,  who  were  prepared 
to  start  for  the  same  destination,  and 
without  further  delay  they  rode  off  to- 
gether. Each  had  left  his  home  that  morn- 
ing, left  friends,  but  neither  of  the  others 
had  had  such  a  hard  wrench  in  so  doing  as 
Hugh. 

They  traveled  for  several  days  in  a  south- 
westerly direction,  stopping  at  intervals  at 
the  different  farm  houses  which  they  en- 
countered for  rest  and  food.     Finally  they 

reached    ,    where    they     enlisted    and 

where  they  were  assigned  to  certain  com- 
mands. 

It  is  not  our  province  to  follow  the 
individual  fortunes  of  any  of  this  party 
further  for  the  present.  Suffice  it  to  say 
that  it  was  not  long  before  they  crossed  the 
Tennessee   line,    and   were   engaged   pretty 


HUGH  DARNABT.  57 

actively  in  the  hostilities  which  were  of 
frequent  occurrence  in  the  Departments  of 
the  Tennessee  and  Cumberland  for  several 
months  afterwards. 

Our  friend,  Hugh  Darnabj,  was  appointed 
sergeant  of  his  company  soon  after  joining 
it ;  this  much  was  known  some  time  after- 
wards, and  this  much,  in  some  mysterious 
manner,  reached  the  ears  of  Annie  Pendleton. 

Mrs.  Darnaby  was  not  her  usual  self,  even 
apparently,  for  some  time  after  Hugh  went 
away.  In  fact,  she  had  a  spell  of  sickness, 
and  required  perfect  rest  and  quiet  for  some 
weeks.  After  that  she  went  about  her  house- 
hold duties  as  usual. 

Hugh's  father  was  very  angry  at  first  upon 
learning  of  liis  son's  departure.  After  awhile 
he  was  much  grieved ;  but  being  a  just  man 
for  all  that,  and  loving  his  son  as  much  as 
any  other  father  he  would  not  allow  anyone 
to  say  anything  against  Hugh  or  to  criticise 
his  action  in  his  presence.  Mr.  Pendleton, 
being    one    of    the    oldest    friends    of    the 


58  HUOH  DARNABT. 

Darnabys,  undertook  one  day  to  ^speak  of 
and  to  condole  with  Mr.  Darnaby  at  what 
he  considered  the  undutiful  conduct  of  Hugh 
in  going  against  the  known  wishes  of  his 
father  and  of  his  best  friends.  Mr.  Darnaby 
justified  his  son's  action  from  Hugh's  stand- 
point. Mr.  Pendleton  became  excited  and 
told  Mr.  Darnaby  that  he  considered  him  a 
curious  Union  man  when  he  could  thus  con- 
done the  fact  of  anyone's  becoming  a  rebel. 
Then  it  was  that  Mr.  Darnaby  became  ex- 
cited also,  and  the  result  was  that  the  two 
old  friends  exchanged  some  very  uncompli- 
mentary epithets,  and  a  coolness  sprang  up 
between  the  families  from  that  time. 

The  fact  was  that  Mr.  Pendleton  was, 
though  a  very  kind-hearted  man  naturally,, 
a  very  excitable  and  quick-tempered  one, 
and  was  apt  to  do  and  say  things  when 
under  the  influence  of  excitement  which  his 
cooler  judgment  would  never  have  per- 
mitted him  to  have  said  or  done.  He  was, 
nevertheless,   very   strong    and   uncompro- 


HUGH  DARNABT.  59 

mising  in  his  opinions,  and  being  of  this 
temperament  and  a  strong  Union  sympathizer 
he  was  often  led  into  indiscretions  which 
made  him  a  prominent  mark  for  the  possible 
future  retaliatory  measures  on  the  part  of 
those  who  still  hoped  and  looked  for  the 
extension  of  the  Confederate  power  in  the 
State.  In  those  troublous  times  it  was  safer 
for  a  man  who  remained  at  home  to  put  a 
guard  on  his  speech  and  actions,  for  there 
were  those  who,  in  order  to  accomplish 
personal  revenge,  would  stop  short  of  nothing. 
In  the  excited  and  unsettled  state  of  affairs 
which  is  always  found  in  any  country  in 
.time  of  war,  and  especially  in  that  part  of  it 
which  is  very  near  to  the  scene  of  actual 
hostilities,  the  worst  element  in  society  is 
sure  to  become  prominent,  and  the  worst 
side  of  individual  character  is  free  to  show 
itself. 

Life  was  frequently  taken  unnecessarily,, 
sometimes  wantonly,  in  Kentucky  during 
those   days,    and    many    were    the    homes. 


60  HUGH  DARNABT. 

which  were  broken  up — some  temporarily, 
others  permanently — in  order  that  a  place 
of  greater  safety  might  be  found  in  which  to 
dwell  in  peace. 

It  was  during  the  early  part  of  the  next 
year  that  affairs  began  to  look  somewhat 
gloomy  for  the  Union  cause  in  Kentucky. 
Already  roving  bands  of  Confederate  sol- 
diers were  to  be  seen  and  met  with  in  un- 
frequented places,  making  their  way  slowly 
northward,  or  hiding  around  through  the 
country  and  committing  depredations  of 
various  kinds  on  those  who  did  not  sympa- 
thize with  their  cause. 

The  seriousness  of  the  war  had  already 
impressed  itself  on  the  minds  of  the  people 
of  all  sections  of  the  country.  They  now 
saw  that  it  was  no  child's  play  in  which 
they  were  engaged.  The  boast  of  the  North 
that  the  Confederacy  would  be  wiped  out  in 
three  months  had  ceased  to  find  echo  in  the 
newspapers  of  the  day,  and  the  Southerners 
had  found  out  that  one  of  them  could  not 
whip  a  half  dozen  "  Yankees." 


ED  OH  DARNABY.  61 

Things  had  settled  down  to  a  regular  war 
basis,  and  a  few  months  later  the  armies  of 
Buell  and  of  Bragg  began  their  celebrated 
race  through  the  State  of  Kentucky.  And 
as  the  race  continued  the  scattering  bands 
and  smaller  detachments  of  the  Confederate 
army  began  to  spread  out  to  the  eastward 
and  to  the  westward.  It  became  more  and 
more  unsafe  for  Union  sympathizers  to 
remain  at  home,  and  especially  those  who 
had  been  as  outspoken  in  their  denuncia- 
tions of  the  rebels  and  as  demonstrative  in 
their  actions  as  Mr.  Pendleton  had  been. 

Very  soon  the  people  of  the  "  Blue  Grass  " 
country  began  to  experience  many  of  the 
inconveniences  and  sufferings  consequent 
upon  the  actual  presence  of  armed  and 
often  hostile  forces.  Mr.  Pendleton  stood 
his  ground  a  good  while,  as  the  enemy 
approached,  hiding  his  best  horses  at  night 
in  the  smoke-house  and  cellar,  and  in  the 
daytime,  at  the  j5rst  sign  of  approaching 
soldiers,   behind   clumps   of    thick-growing 


62  HUGH  DARNABF. 

bushes.  On  one  or  two  occasions  when  the 
danger  seemed  to  be  particularly  imminent, 
he  hid  his  favorite  riding  horse  in  one  of 
the  lower  rooms  of  the  house,  and  covered 
the  floor  with  straw  so  that  the  stamping  of 
the  hoofs  could  not  be  heard. 

But,  finally,  after  his  life  had  been 
threatened  more  than  once,  through  the 
entreaties  of  his  wife  and  daughter,  as  well 
as  by  the  advice  of  friends,  he  left  the 
country  and  moved  with  his  family  to 
Indiana,  and  established  himself  in  a  small 
town  just  across  the  Ohio  river. 

And  at  last  Mr.  Darnaby,  in  common  with 
many  others,  was  compelled  to  leave  home. 
He  went  to  Louisville,  leaving  his  wife  with 
a  maiden  sister  and  the  servants  to  keep 
things  about  the  place  in  as  good  order  as 
possible,  until  such  time  as  the  exigencies 
of  the  times  might  permit  him  to  return. 

In  order  to  protect  herself  and  family  from 
personal  violence  Mrs.  Darnaby  provided 
herself  with  a  revolver  and  began  practicing 


HUGH  DARNABY.  63 

shooting  at  a  target  set  up  in  the  yard.  And 
soon  she  became  quite  proficient  in  the  use 
of  the  weapon.  The  revolver  was  kept  con- 
veniently at  hand  during  her  husband's 
absence. 

If  one  had  made  it  a  subject  of  investiga- 
tion daring  those  war  times  he  would  have 
found  that  a  great  many  Kentucky  ladies  had 
become  more  or  less  proficient  in  the  use  of 
this  weapon.  Not  that  they  were  then,  nor 
are  they  now,  more  bloodthirsty  or  warlike 
than  the  women  of  any  other  State  in  the 
Union,  but  because,  almost  invariably,  the 
female  portion  of  the  family  was  left  to  pro- 
vide for  its  own  safety,  temporarily  at  least, 
as  all  the  men  able  to  bear  arms  had  gone 
into  the  army  on  one  side  or  the  other. 


64  HUGH  DARNABY. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

MOEGAN's   raiders   visit   the   DARNABY   PLACE. 

One  afternoon  during  this  summer  a  party 
of  about  a  hundred  Confederate  cavalry 
came  sweeping  through  the  the  country,  re- 
connoitering,  foraging,  and  replacing  the 
horses  too  badly  used  up  to  be  of  further 
use  to  them,  and  it  was  soon  evident  to  the 
members  of  the  Darnaby  household  that  a 
visit  was  about  to  be  made  to  them,  for  when 
they  reached  the  gate  opening  from  the  main 
road  into  the  Darnaby  place  about  one-half 
the  number  turned  in  through  the  gate  and 
the  rest  passed  on. 

This  detachment  went  immediately  to  the 
pasture  back  of  the  stable  lot,  on  one  side  of 
which  lay  a  field  of  corn  upon  the  stalks  of 
which  the  luscious  roasting  ears  were  full 
of  milky  sap,  and  began  to  unsaddle  and 
picket  their  horses. 


HUOH  DA RNA BY.  65 

It  was  evident  that  they  intended  to  stop 
a  while  at  least  with  their  somewhat  unwil- 
ling hostess. 

By  this  time  the  negroes  on  the  place, 
frightened  until  the  ashen  hue  began  to 
spread  over  and  mingle  with  the  black  of 
their  faces,  were  running — some  of  them  to 
the  big  house,  others  to  the  bushes — for  they 
believed  "  the  rebels  "  would  certainly  kill 
them  if  they  caught  them.  Some  of  the 
mothers  snatched  up  their  babies  and  ran 
with  them  tightly  clasped  in  their  arms, 
others,  forgetting  the  motherly  instinct,  left 
their  children  wherever  they  happened  to  be 
and  fled  without  them. 

Even  the  two  white  ladies  of  the  family 
were  sufficiently  wellffrightened,  for  they  had 
never  seen  a  live  armed  rebel  face  to  face 
before. 

Mrs.  Darnaby  watched  the  soldiers  some 
minutes,  and  then  saying  to  her  sister  "  come 
with  me,"  she  took  her  revolver  in  her  hand 
and  started  down  towards  the  gate  opening 
into  the  stable' lot. 


66  HUGH  DARNABT. 

The  sister  followed  close  behind  her,  and 
Jim  followed  the  sister.  As  they  progressed 
one  or  two  of  the  negro  women  plucked  up 
courage  enough  to  join  the  procession  in 
Jim's  rear  ;  and  several  of  the  pickaninnies 
ran  to  their  mothers  in  line,  thus  making 
quite  a  formidable  looking  party  for  the  ad- 
vance against  the  enemy. 

As  the  little  garrison  reached  the  fence 
between  the  stable  lot  and  the  pasture  a 
number  of  the  soldiers  came  to  meet  them, 
and  a  parley  immediately  began.  Mrs.  Dar- 
naby  addressed  one  of  the  soldiers  and  asked 
him  to  what  command  he  belonged  and  what 
was  the  object  of  their  visit.  He  replied 
that  they  belonged  to  Morgan's  command, 
and  that  a  good  many  of  their  number  were 
recruits,  principally  from  around  Lexington  ; 
it  being  one  of  the  main  objects  of  the  pres- 
ent expedition  to  add  recruits  to  their  ranks. 
"Then,"  said  Mrs.  Darnaby,  "you  are 
Kentuckians,  and  know  how  to  treat  ladies 
when  you  meet  them,  and  especially  when 


HUGH  DA RNAB  Y.  57 

they  are  entirely  unprotected  ?  "  The  young 
man  replied  that  he  hoped  that  they  had  not 
forgotten  how  to  treat  ladies,  though  there 
were  often  long  intervals  between  the  times 
when  they  had  the  opportunity  to  prove 
themselves  gentlemen  to  the  fair  sex.  How- 
ever, he  told  her  that  they  must  have  feed 
for  their  horses,  and  asked  if  she  could  fur- 
nish the  men  with  something  to  eat.  Mrs. 
Darnaby,  thinking  that  it  was  probably  the 
best  policy  to  accede  to  these  requests  with  as 
good  grace  as  possible,  told  them  to  help 
themselves  to  what  feed  they  could  find  for 
their  horses,  and  that  if  they  would  wait  a  very 
short  time  she  would  have  something  pre- 
pared for  them  to  eat  of  whatever  was  in  the 
house,  and  that  in  as  far  as  it  went  they  were 
welcome  to  it.  And  as  she  said  this  she  was 
thinking  of  her  own  rebel  boy,  and  hoping 
that  some  one  would  treat  him  as  well  if  he 
was  ever  in  such  need. 

She  then  returned  to  the  house  with  her 
supporting  party  and  had  the  fire  built  in 


68  HUGH  DARNABT. 

the  kitchen  stove,  and  the  two  white  women, 
two  colored  women,  and  Jim,  went  to  work 
cooking  corn  bread,  wheat  pones,  and  fat 
meat  on  top  of  the  stove,  and  boiling  coffee 
as  fast  as  they  could.  By  this  time  the 
kitchen  was  full  of  hungry  soldiers — soldiers 
ravenously  hungry — so  hu  ngry  indeed  that 
they  would  hardly  wait  until  the  bread  was 
even  partially  browned  before  they  would 
grab  it  off  of  the  stove  and  fairly  gulp  it 
down. 

The  soldiers  did  not  go  into  the  sleeping 
apartments,  but  wandered  in  and  out  of  the 
other  parts  of  the  house  and  over  the  yard  and 
premises  at  will.  A  good  many  of  them  found 
their  way  into  the  vegetable  garden  and 
orchard,  where  they  learned  that  the  young 
onions  and  green  apples  were  especially  pal- 
atable to  them. 

The  cooking  continued  until  after  dark 
when  the  soldiers  seemed  to  be  satisfied ;  at 
least  they  left  the  house  and  went  into  camp. 
Those  who  had  been  supplying  the  rations 


HUGH  DARNABT.  69 

were  completely  worn  out,  and  sought  their 
beds  as  soon  as  possible,  and  slept  soundly 
until  morning  without  further  incident. 

Bright  and  early  they  were  up  and  at 
work  again  in  the  kitchen,  anticipating  more 
visitors  for  breakfast.  Nor  were  they  dis- 
appointed in  this  expectation.  "Whilst  Mrs. 
Darnaby  and  the  two  colored  women  were 
preparing  the  food,  her  sister  went  to 
straighten  up  the  room  in  which  the  two  had 
slept  during  the  night.  Being  thus  occu- 
pied she  heard  a  bugle  call,  but  did  not  pay 
any  particular  attention  to  it,  as  she  sup- 
posed it  was  only  calling  the  soldiers  from 
their  slumbers.  Presently,  however,  she 
was  startled,  as  she  stopped  for  a  moment 
to  look  out  of  the  window,  and  saw  two  men 
carrying  a  third  man  between  them,  and  his 
head  was  drooping  and  blood  was  dripping 
from  his  leg.  They  approached  the  house 
and  came  up  the  back  stairway  with  their 
burden.  She  immediately  came  out  into 
the  upper  back  porch,  and,  leaning  over  the 


70  HUGH  DARNABT.   , 

railing,  saw  that  one  of  the  men  was 
wounded,  and  she  called  to  the  men  for 
them  to  bring  him  up  to  the  boys'  room. 
This  they  did,  and  soon  had  him  lg,id  com- 
fortably on  the  bed. 

"  Miss,"  said  one  of  the  men,  "  you  must 
not  be  frightened  ;  this  boy  was  accidentally 
shot  in  the  leg  while  taking  his  gun  out  of  a 
wagon  which  was  standing  in  the  yard.  He 
is  not  much  hurt,  and  if  you  can  get  us  a 
piece  of  rag  and  some  water  we  will  have 
him  all  right  in  a  few  minutes."  She  found 
some  linen  for  them,  and  also  furnished 
some  pins  to  the  extemporized  surgeons, 
and  they  soon  had  the  wound  bound  up  and 
had  thanked  the  lady  for  her  aid  and  com- 
plimented her  for  her  bravery.  But  just  as 
they  had  made  the  wounded  man  as  comfort- 
able as  he  could  be  under  the  circumstances, 
shots  were  heard  ringing  out  on  the  early 
morning  air,  and  the  shrill  notes  of  the 
bugle  again  sounded,  calling  the  soldiers  to 
horse.     And  as  the  two  men  jumped  from 


HUQ  H  DARNAB  T.  71 

the  room  a  troop  of  cavalry  in  "  Blue  "  were 
seen  galloping  down  the  road  and  through 
the  front  gate.  There  was  no  time  to  lose  ; 
the  wounded  man  must  be  abandoned.  One 
of  thoi  men,  as  he  dashed  past  Miss  Beall, 
cried,  "  Good-by,  Miss ;  take  care  of  the 
boy ;  he  has  just  joined  us." 

Very  soon,  in  fact  almost  as  quickly  as  if 
done  by  a  miracle,  the  whole  place  was  free 
of  rebel  soldiers  and  the  Federals  were  to 
be  seen  everywhere.  Some  of  these  latter 
came  into  the  house  on  a  run,  and  clattered 
upstairs.  Of  course,  they  came  finally  to 
the  boy's  room,  which  was  situated  in  the 
rear  of  the  house,  and  found  the  wounded 
man  there.  They  immediately  demanded 
of  him  that  he  should  surrender,  and  one  of 
his  captors  threatened  to  shoot  him,  and  he 
looked  very  much  like  he  intended  to  carry 
his  threat  into  execution.  At  least  Miss 
Beall  thought  so,  for,  as  quick  as  lightning, 
she  jumped  between  the  muzzle  of  the  gun 
and  the  prisoner,  with  eyes  blazing,  and  cry- 


72  HUGH  DARNABT. 

ing,  "Don't  you  dare  shoot,  you  coward!'* 
The  man  lowered  his  gun  and  then  an  offi- 
cer came  on  the  scene  and  the  wounded 
Confederate  was  made  a  regular  prisoner  of 
war.  He  was  not  very  badly  hurt,  an;^  in  a 
few  days  was  able  to  walk  about  with  the 
aid  of  a  crutch,  and  then  he  was  paroled. 
So  virtually  ended  this  young  man's  military 
career,  at  least  in  so  far  as  Miss  Beall  ever 
knew. 

A  portion  of  the  Federal  detachment  went 
in  pursuit  of  the  rebels,  and  a  few  remained 
long  enough  to  partake  of  the  meal  pre- 
pared for  the  "Johnnies." 

Mrs.  Darnaby  found  out  during  the  day 
that  some  of  her  preserves  were  missing, 
and  that  her  husband's  riding  horse  had 
disappeared. 


HUOH  DA  RNAB  Y.  7a 


CHAPTEE   VII. 

TOM   DAENABY's   KIDE. 

As  we  have  said  Hugh  had  two  brothers 
in  the  Federal  army,  and  Tom,  the  eldest, 
now  wore  the  shoulder  straps  of  a  lieutenant,, 
and  was  with  Buell's  army. 

Lieutenant  Thomas  Darnaby  had  left  a^ 
sweetheart  behind  when  he  had  enlisted,  but 
had  taken  her  promise  with  him,  and  now  as 
he  approached  that  portion  of  the  State  in 
which  was  his  home  and  hers  he  bethought 
him  that  he  would  obtain  a  furlough  for  a 
couple  of  days  and  go  and  see  his  mother 
and  his  lady  love.  They  lived  not  far  apart, 
for  she  was  none  other  than  Florence 
Grigsby,  with  whom  we  have  had  some  slight 
acquaintance  already. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  a  temporary 
lull  occurred  in   the  activitv  of  the  Union 


74  HUGH  DARNABT. 

troops  stationed  at  or  near  the  town 
of . 

The  noise  and  clatter  of  actual  warfare 
was  somewhat  distantly  removed  from  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  this  community. 

The  hot  sun  shone  down  upon  fields  of 
fast  ripening  grain,  for  the  farmers  had  suc- 
ceeded in  putting  in  moderately  fair-sized 
crops,  with  the  help  of  the  negroes  and  the 
younger  boys,  members  of  the  family. 

The  stillness  of  the  air  was  only  broken 
by  the  roll  of  the  drums  as  they  sounded  the 
reveille,  or  beat  "  taps  "  in  the  camps  at  bed 
time;  or  by  the  shrill  call  of  the  bugle  from 
the  quarters  of  the  cavalry.  It  was  a  time 
when  the  dividing  line  between  the  country 
claimed  by  the  opposing  hosts  was  of  a 
■dubious    nature  and  somewhat    vacillating. 

In  consequence,  that  portion  of  the  State 
was  filled  with  small  and  generally  moving 
bodies  of  troops  from  either  the  Federal  or 
Confederate  army. 

The  railroad  towns  were  mostly  occupied 


HUGH  DARNABT.         ^  75 

by  the  Union  troops,  while  the  Confederates 
were  forced  to  content  themselves  with  scat- 
tering through  the  country  and  making 
occasional  sorties  upon  the  smaller  towns 
and  dashes  at  the  railroad  bridges. 

It  sometimes  happened  that  the  Federals 
having  heard  of  the  whereabouts  of  a  party 
of  rebels  made  incursions  into  the  country 
in  the  hope  of  capturing  them,  and  thus  it 
was  that  frequent  little  fights  would  take 
place — sometimes  not  resulting  in  the  loss  of  a 
single  life,  at  other  times,  alas,  some  poor 
fellow  being  called  to  his  last  account.  A 
good  many  of  the  Confederates  were  the 
boys  from  the  country  round  about,  who 
taking  advantage  of  the  fact  of  the  compara- 
tive proximity  of  ,their  respective  commands 
had  come  home  on  a  visit. 

Some  came  to  see  the  old  folks,  others 
had  sweethearts  whom  they  wished  to  see, 
others  needed  fresh  horses  and  clothing,  and 
still  others  hoped  to  obtain  a  good  square 
meal.     At  any  rate  here  they  were.     Tom 


76  HUGH  DARNABT. 

Darnaby  reached  town  one  day  when  things 
were  in  the  condition  above  described,  and 
after  resting  an  hour  or  so  determined  to 
ride  out  home,  take  supper  with  his  mother, 
and  then  go  over  and  call  on  Florence 
Grigsby. 

His  bravery  had  been  put  to  the  test  and 
was  beyond  question  ;  in  fact,  he  was  con- 
sidered rather  too  daring  in  his  command. 

Now  the  lieutenant  was  a  splendid  rider 
and  had  been  furnished  with  a  good,  com- 
pactly built,  mettlesome  horse  ;  so  that  after- 
noon, buckling  on  his  sabre,  putting  his 
pistols  into  the  holsters  attached  to  his 
saddle,  and  donning  his  best  uniform  and 
high-topped  boots,  he  mounted  his  horse 
and  started. 

Everything  had  been  quiet  for  some  days. 
Not  a  rebel  had  been  seen  or  heard  of  for  a 
week  at  least,  and  he  had  the  promise  of  a 
very  pleasant  and  peaceful  visit.  He  had 
plenty  of  time  to  spare  and  so  rode  leisurely 
along,  admiring  the  loveliness  of  the  country 
through  which  his  course  lay. 


HUGH  DARNABY.  77 

It  is  very  pleasant  to  travel  along  these 
"  turn-pike  "  roads,  especially  in  the  cool  of 
the  evening,  to  let  the  fresh  breeze  which 
springs  up  from  the  motion  made  in  riding 
fan  the  brow.  Anon,  to  rest  beneath  the 
shade  of  some  noble  forest  tree  which  stands 
on  the  side  of  the  road,  to  let  the  eye  rove 
over  the  vast  expanse  of  green  grass  and 
tree  and  shrub,  and  then  to  move  on  and 
drink  in  the  sweet,  seductive  aroma  of  the 
atmosphere. 

Who  can  tell  what  thoughts  came  to  Tom 
Darnaby  as  he  rode  along.  Dream  no 
doubt  he  did ;  dreams  not  altogether  war- 
like. At  any  rate  he  arrived  safely  at  home, 
had  a  glad  meeting  with  his  mother,  and  then 
a  pleasant  meal.  Afterwards  he  remounted 
his  horse  and  rode  over  to  Mr.  Grigsby's,  in- 
tending to  return  and  remain  during  the 
night  at  his  own  home. 

We  shall  not  describe  the  meeting  between 
Miss  Grigsby  and  himself,  nor  shall  we  even 
surmise  what  subjects  were  mentioned  be- 


78  HUGH  BARN ABY. 

tween  them,  nor  what  promises  were  made 
or  renewed,  nor  shall  we  tell  how  quickly 
the  hours  sped  until  it  was  time  for  the 
young  man  to  leave.  Suffice  it  to  say  it  was 
quite  late  when  he  took  his  departure.  The 
usual  adieux  were  exchanged,  and  he  again 
remounted  his  horse  and  was  soon  nearing 
the  gate  which  opened  onto  the  public  road^ 
There  was  a  stone  fence  dividing  the  yard 
from  the  road,  and  just  as  the  young  soldier 
bent  over  to  raise  the  gate  latch  a  voice 
sounded  from  within  the  shadow  of  the  fence, 
"  Surrender  ;  you  are  my  prisoner." 

Taken  by  surprise  Tom  hesitated  for  an 
instant,  then  gaining  his  presence  of  mind 
and  having  no  thought  of  surrender,  he  drew 
one  of  his  pistols  in  a  flash  and  leveling  it  at 
the  head  of  his  would-be  captor,  who  could 
be  plainly  seen  now,  pulled  the  trigger.  At 
the  same  time  he  plunged  the  rowels  of  hia 
spurs  deep  into  the  flanks  of  the  animal 
which  he  was  riding.  The  horse,  maddened 
by  the  pain  inflicted,  reared  just  as  the  re- 


HUGH  DA RNA BY.  79 

ports  of   two  pistol  shots  rang  out  on  the 
night  air.     Tom's  assailant  had  fired  at  the 
same  time  that  he  had.     The  rearing  of  the 
horse   prevented    either   shot    from    taking 
effect.     A  quick  jerk  of  the  reins  now  headed 
the  animal  again  to  the  road,  and  another 
plunge  of  the  spurs  into  his  sides  sent  him 
like  a  cannon  ball  at  the  stone  fence.     Over 
he  went  carrying  his  rider  with  him  safely 
into   the   road,  when   he   was   immediately 
headed  in  the  direction  of  town.     But  now 
the  young  officer  sees  that  he  is  surrounded 
by  at  least  a  dozen  enemies.     What  shall  he 
do?     As  quick   as  thought    he  fires  again, 
throws  the  weapon  away,  draws    his  sabre 
and  plunges    the    spurs   yet  again  into  his 
steed,  from  whose  sides  the  blood  was  spurt- 
ing now.      The  noble  animal,  mad  beyond 
control,  leapt  at  the  line  of  men  drawn  up 
across  the  road,  crushes  past  them,  and  is 
gone  on  the  wings  of  the  wind.     All  this  was 
over   in   a  few  seconds  of  time,  and  Tom 
Darnaby,  whose    blood  was    up  now,  after 


80  HUGH  DARNABF. 

cutting  and  slashing  at  the  nearest  as  he  was 
carried  past,  was  looking  back  and  yelling 
defiance  as  he  widened  the  distance  between 
them.  His  defiance  was  answered  by  "  the 
rebel  yell,"  and  by  several  shots  sent  after 
him.  Some  of  the  "  rebs  "  threw  themselves 
upon  their  horses  and  gave  pursuit.  All 
were  good  riders  and  all  were  well  mounted, 
and  now  commenced  one  of  the  most  exciting 
races  on  record. 

Kentucky  is  noted  for  its  swift  and 
blooded  horses,  and  some  of  its  best  blood 
was  entered  in  this  race.  For  fully  three 
miles  was  this  race  for  life  extended.  Tom 
Darnaby,  having  emptied  his  second  revol- 
ver, and  his  pursuers  having  sent  many 
shots  after  him  without  effect,  at  last  ceased 
firing,  and  all  was  staked  on  the  speed  and 
endurance  of  the  horses.  On  and  on  they 
went,  the  dust  rising  in  clouds,  the  loose 
stones,  being  flung  up  by  the  hoofs  of  the 
animals,  kept  up  a  continuous  fusilade 
upon  the  fences  all  the  way. 


HUGH  BARNABY.  81 

At  last,  though  dusty  and  pale,  but  with 
clinched  teeth  and  unmistakable  resolution 
written  on  his  countenance,  our  young  offi- 
cer gained  the  picket  lines  of  his  friends, 
and  giving  the  pass-word  rode  into  safety. 
He  thought  that  he  had  seen  one  or  two  of 
his  pursuers  roll  from  their  saddles  when  he 
had  shot,  but  no  one  ever  knew  for  certain 
whether  this  was  a  fact  or  not. 

The  next  day  all  was  as  quiet  and  serene 
as  it  had  been  on  the  preceding  afternoon. 
The  story  of  Tom  Darnaby's  ride  has  never 
before  appeared  either  in  history  or  fiction, 
but  it  was  never  forgotten  in  that  little  com- 
munity, where  it  is  well  known  to  not  a  few, 
and  methinks  that  as  a  daring  and  fleet 
rider  he  will  rank  with  Putnam  or  Phil 
Sheridan. 

Lieutenant  Darnaby,  we  may  be  sure, 
found  a  way  to  let  the  folks  at  home,  as  well 
as  those  at  Mr.  Grigsby's,  know  that  he  was 
safe. 


82  HUGH  DABNABT. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

HUGH  IS    WOUNDED,  PAYS   HIS   MOTHER   A   VISIT, 
AND  LITTLE  BLACK  MILLY  WINS  A  RACE. 

It  was  after  the  Pendletons  bad  moved  to 
Indiana,  about  the  middle  of  June,  1862, 
that  a  letter  reached  Mrs.  Darnaby  from 
Hugh.  It  had  been  written  several  weeks 
before.  It  told  her  of  a  great  battle  which 
had  been  fought  in  April,  and  in  which  he 
had  taken  an  humble  part.  It  spoke  of  the 
hard  fighting  and  of  the  numbers  of  the 
killed  and  wounded.  It  told  how  that  the 
courage  displayed  on  either  side  had  been 
splendid.  How  that  "  our  side  "  had  fought 
like  mad  but  had  been  worsted  finally. 
It  told  her,  also,  that  he  had  been  sick  and 
was  just  convalescing ;  that  he  was  at  the 
time  of  writing  propped  up  with  pillows, 
but  that  soon  he  hoped  to  be  able  to  go 


HUGH  DARNABY.  83 

about  again.  It  told  her  that  he  was  think- 
ing of  getting  a  furlough  and  of  coming 
home  to  see  her  and  all  the  folks  as  soon  as 
it  was  safe  to  do  so. 

This  letter  had  started  from  Georgia 
while  he  was  in  hospital,  some  three  weeks 
after  the  battle  of  Shiloh,  and  it  had  traveled 
slowly  northward  until  it  had  at  last  reached 
its  destination. 

He  made  excuses  for  the  shortness  of  his 
letter  saying  it  was  very  difficult  to  procure 
paper  and  he  was  still  pretty  weak.  And 
this  was  all  he  wrote,  except  that  he  asked 
to  be  remembered  to  Annie  Pendleton. 

The  newspapers  still  came  to  the  "  Blue 
Grass "  country,  not  so  regularly  as  they 
had  a  few  weeks  since,  still  the  people  of 
that  section  had  heard  of  the  battle  of 
Shiloh,  and  had  read  of  what  a  splendid 
victory  for  the  Union  had  been  snatched 
from  the  jaws  of  defeat. 

Hugh's  mother  had  heard  with  pride  of 
her  eldest  son's,  Tom's,  bravery  and  courage 


84  HUGH  DARNABY. 

in  that  battle,  and  that  he  had  been  com- 
mended by  his  colonel  for  gallantry  on  the 
field,  and  that  he  had  received  a  captain's 
commission  ;  but  she  had  not  heard  that 
her  youngest  son  had  been  carried  from  that 
same  battle-field  covered  with  blood  and 
glory.  She  had  not  heard  that  he  had 
ridden  first  and  foremost  into  the  very 
"jaws  of  death";  how  that  his  horse  Joe 
had  taken  him  straight  through  a  battery 
which  was  belching  forth  fire  and  hail  amid 
the  din  and  destruction  which  it  was  caus- 
ing, nor  how  that  the  battery  ceased  to  roar 
and  that  it  was  his  and  that  of  his  noble 
fellows  who  had  followed  him  through — 
theirs  for  a  brief  time  at  least. 

No  high-sounding  word  of  praise  had 
reached  her  ears  of  how,  sword  in  hand, 
her  boy  and  his  little  band  had  fought  hand 
to  hand  with  the  gunners  who  manned  the 
battery;  of  how  that  wounded  and  beaten 
by  superior  numbers,  driven  back  by  the 
infantry  reserve,  he  had  ridden,  still  fight- 


HUGH  BARNABY.  85 

ing  and  bleeding,  until  reaching  a  place  of 
comparative  safety  he  had  fallen  and  was 
carried  away  by  his  comrades. 

She  did  not  know  that  he,  too,  had  risen 
from  the  ranks,  and  now  wore  upon  his 
sleeve  the  velvet  cuff  and  insignia  of  a  first 
lieutenant  in  the  Confederate  army.  But 
what  would  it  have  really  mattered  to  her  in 
comparison  to  the  knowledge  that  he  was 
safe  and  in  comparative  good  health.  His 
letter  gave  her  more  news  of  him  than  she 
had  had  for  months,  and  her  mother's  heart 
was  greatly  comforted,  though  still  not 
altogether  satisfied. 

It  was  some  time  during  the  fall  of  this 
same  year  that  a  tall,  dark-whiskered,  slightly 
pale-faced  man  rode  into  the  yard  of  the 
Darnaby  home-place.  He  was  accompanied 
by  a  much  smaller  man,  one  who  looked 
wiry  and  active  though,  and  whose  keen 
black  eye  took  in  every  feature  of  the  land- 
scape. 

"  And  this  is  your  old  home,  Darnaby  "  ? 


86  HUOE  DARNABT. 

inquired  the  smaller  man.  "  What  a  home- 
like old  place  it  is,  too.  I  wonder  how  long 
it  will  be  before  I  will  see  my  home  again  ? 
I  have  not  been  back  since  I  first  enlisted, 
and  do  you  know,  lieutenant,  I  have  begun 
lately  to  have  a  rather  sentimental  longing 
for  a  strong  whiff  of  the  odor  from  the 
magnolia?  You  have  a  beautiful  country 
here,  and  a  splendid  soil,  but  it  is  not  the 
same  to  me  you  know  as  our  own  rice  fields 
and  sugar  cane,  and  the  wild  luxuriance  of 
our  forests." 

"  It  is  quite  natural  that  you  should  feel 
that  way.  Captain  Elliott,"  answered  Hugh 
Darnaby,  for  it  was  he  who  now  spoke. 

"  But  as  you  say,"  continued  he,  "  we  have 
a  beautiful  country,  and  I  love  it  exceedingly 
well.  I  wish  we  were  done  with  fighting.  I 
sometimes  think  that  things  might  have  been 
arranged  differently." 

They  proceeded  up  the  lawn  toward  the 
house  now,  silently  but  not  without  attract- 
ing the  attention  of  the  people  about  the 
buildings. 


HUGE  DARN ABT.  87 

The  negro  portion  of  the  population  es- 
pecially were  soon  on  the  alert,  and  half  a 
dozen  little  woolly  heads  were  seen  protruding 
from  behind  house  corners  and  through  the 
panels  of  the  fence.  It  was  about  dusk  and 
to-morrow  would  be  Sunday ;  and  Jim,  yes, 
that  was  Jim,  came  walking  into  the  yard, 
and  as  he  approached  the  two  seeming 
strangers,  he  recognized  his  young  master. 

"Well,  fore  de  Lord,"  he  cried,  "  is  dat  you 
Mars  Hugh?  Deed  I'se  right  glad  to  see 
you.  De  missus  will  be  mighty  glad  too, 
cause  she  ben  thinken  a  heap  bout  you. 
How  is  you  ben  ?  Ebenin'  sir,"  continued  he, 
bowing  to  Captain  Elliott.  "Gemmen,  git 
down  and  walk  inter  de  house,  I'll  take  yer 
hosses." 

"  How  do  you  do,  Jim,"  said  Hugh,  "  and 
how  is  mother  and  everybody  ?  I  am  mighty 
glad  to  get  back  home,  Jim,  and  pleased  to 
see  things  looking  so  well." 

He  and  his  friend  dismounted  and  handed 
the  bridle  reins  to  Jim,  who  started  toward 


88  HUGH  DARNABT. 

the  stable,  calling  out  as  he  went  "  Milly, 
you  go  and  tell  you  Mistus  (Jim  always  said 
Mistus  when  he  wished  to  appear  dignified 
and  important),  "tell  you  Mistus  dat  Mars 
Hugh  have  came  home.  Go  on  now  and  be 
tolerable  peart  bout  it,  too." 

And  a  small  black  urchin  darted  from 
without  the  darkness,  and  fairly  flew  toward 
the  house,  nothing  loath  to  be  the  bearer  of 
such  important  news.  But  there  were  others 
of  Milly's  companions  who  having  heard  the 
message  given  held  the  same  sentiments  as 
to  the  importance  of  the  announcement  to  be 
made  as  she  herself ;  and,  although  Milly  had 
been  specially  delegated  to  bear  the  tidings, 
no  sooner  had  she  started  than  the  whole 
posse  of  young  nigs  had  formed  themselves 
into  a  committee  and  were  after  Milly  as 
quick  as  thought.  And  now  a  race  began 
for  the  honor  of  "  telling  Old  Miss,"  which, 
in  the  earnestness  of  the  endeavor  to  win, 
was  as  great  as  any  ever  ran  in  the  olden 
time  at  the  Olympic  games.     But  Milly  had 


HUGH  DARNABT.  89 

the  start,  and  being  very  fleet  of  foot,  in 
addition,  reached  the  goal  first.  Her  little 
black  legs  seemed  actually  to  whiz  as  she 
darted  into  the  room  where  Mrs.  Darnaby 
sat,  and  breathlessly  cried  out,  "Ole  Miss, 
Jim  say  Mars  Hugh  out  yander." 

It  is  useless  to  say  that  Mrs.  Darnaby  was 
surprised,  for  she  did  not  know  that  Hugh 
was  within  a  hundred  miles  of  home;  but 
she  immediately  arose  and  went  to  the  front 
door. 

"  Lieutenant,"  said  Captain  Elliott,  "  you 
will  have  to  make  excuse  for  our  dilapidated 
appearance." 

"  Oh,"  replied  Hugh,  "  that  will  be  all 
right.  Captain,  I  don't  think  we  will  see  any- 
body except  my  mother  and  the  blacks,  and 
I  have  no  doubt  that  she  will  be  right  glad 
to  see  some  real  live  rebels,  though  they  are 
somewhat  dusty  and  dirty.  Walk  in,"  con- 
tinued he,  as  they  stepped  onto  the  porch. 
"  Ah,  there  is  mother  waiting  for  us,"  he  ex- 
claimed. And  in  another  moment  she  was 
in  his  arms. 


90  HUGH  DARNABT. 

"Mother!"  "My  son!"  were  the  only 
exclamations  for  some  moments.  Then  re- 
leasing him  the  mother  turned  and  said, 
"And  this  is " 

"  Captain  Elliott,  my  mother,"  said  Hugh  ; 
"  he  is  a  friend  of  mine  from  our  command." 

"  Captain  Elliott,"  said  she,  "  you  are  wel- 
come ;  walk  into  the  house." 

The  Captain  took  occasion  to  retire  early 
that  night  so  as  to  leave  mother  and  son 
together  to  talk  without  hindrance. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  state  that  she  gradu- 
ally learned  from  him  the  principal  incidents 
of  the  months  since  he  had  left  home,  espec- 
ially those  bearing  upon  his  personal  action  ; 
or  that  she  got  from  him  the  story  of  his 
wound  and  of  the  fearful  battle  in  which  it 
had  been  received. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  say  that  she  told 
him  that  his  father  was  away  in  Louisville  ; 
that  the  Pendletons  had  moved  to  Indiana, 
taking  a  good  many  of  their  negroes  with 
them ;  or  that  Mr.  Pendleton  had  given  them 


HUGH  BAUNABT.  91 

their  freedom  and  settled  them  on  small 
farms  as  far  as  he  was  able,  as  well  as  in  the 
small  town  to  which  he  had  gone  in  the 
Hoosier  State  ;  or  how  she  told  him  that 
Lieutenant  Gray  had  left  soon  after  he  had 
and  had  been  killed  in  battle  ;  or  how  that 
Annie  Pendleton  had  grieved  at  leaving  the 
old  home,  and  that  she  had  asked  to  be  re- 
membered to  him  when  she  wrote. 

The  poor  fellow's  heart  glowed  at  the 
recognition  of  the  fact  that  she  had  not  for- 
gotten him,  although  he  was  dreadfully  dis- 
appointed at  not  being  able  to  see  her. 

Small  satisfaction  it  was,  but  this  was  the 
first  he  had  heard,  even  indirectly,  from  her 
for  a  long  time,  and  he  was  fain  to  be  con- 
tent. Sufiicient  is  it  to  say  that  night  sped 
away,  and  the  fore  part  of  the  next  day  was 
passed  in  pleasant  social  intercourse,  and 
then  the  rumor  of  another  fearful  battle  hav- 
ing been  fought  came  to  them.  How  or 
when  the  first  announcement  reached  the 
neighborhood  will  always  remain  a  mystery. 


92  HUGH  DARNAB  7. 

The  battle  had  beeu  disastrous  to  the  Con- 
federates, and  sooner  than  Hugh  had  ex- 
pected, certainly  sooner  than  he  had  wished, 
his  visit  came  to  an  end.  While  they  were 
in  the  stable  looking  after  the  feeding  and 
grooming  of  his  own  and  Captain  Elliott's 
horses  preparatory  to  their  speedy  departure, 
Jim  said  to  him,  "Mars  Hugh,  I'se  got  a 
fabor  to  ax  you  fore  you  goes  agin." 
"  Well,  Jim,"  said  Hugh,  "  what  is  it  ?" 
*'  I  want's,"  replied  the  negro,  "  to  go  wid 
you.  I  b'longs  to  de  Missus,  you  know,  and 
I  tinks  she  wants  somebody  to  wait  on  you, 
so  I  thought  if  you  ax  her  she  let  me  go 
'long  and  take  keer  ob  Joe  fur  you.  I  heard 
de  Cap'n  called  you  Lieut'nt,  an'  you  can't 
rub  down  you  own  horse  now.  I  knows 
that  cause  you  is  a  ossifer  now." 

Hugh  was  touched  by  the  evident  devo- 
tion of  the  negro  and  felt  tempted  to  accept 
his  offer,  but  remembered  that  he  really  had 
no  right  to  do  so.  "  But,  Jim,"  he  replied, 
"  you   don't   belong  to  me,  and  although  I 


HUGE  DARNABY.  95 

would  like  very  much  to  have  you  with  me 
I  would  not  have  any  right  to  take  you. 
You  see  I  can't  ask  my  mother  to  lend  you 
to  me  for  it  is  not  at  all  certain  that  either 
of  us  would  ever  get  back." 

"  Now,  Mars  Hugh,"  said  Jim,  "  you  might 
ax  her  to  lend  me  to  you  till  de  war  is  ober." 
And  more  to  please  Jim  than  from  any 
hope  that  such  a  request  would  be  granted, 
he  promised  to  speak  to  his  mother  about  it. 
Really  Jim  was  the  property  of  Mrs. 
Darnaby  in  her  own  right.  He  had  been 
given  to  her  by  her  father  when  he  was  a 
little  bit  of  a  picayune.  He  and  Hugh  had 
grown  up  together  and  were  very  fond  of 
each  other. 

That  attachment  had  sprung  up  between 
them  which  was  often  exemplified  in  the 
lives  of  the  young  master  and  servant,  as 
well  as  between  the  young  mistress  and  maid- 
Often  the  relations  between  the  ruling 
members  of  the  family  and  the  domestics  in 
the  South  were  such  as  to  engender  kindness 


94  HUGH  DARNABT. 

and  consideration  on  the  one  side  and  faith- 
fulness and  trust  on  the  other.  Hugh  would 
have  liked  to  have  Jim  with  him,  for  he 
knew  that  he  would  have  been  served  faith- 
fully and  lovingly.  And  he  did  speak  to  his 
mother,  as  he  had  promised,  in  relation  to 
this  matter,  and  without  much  hesitation, 
but  much  to  his  surprise,  she  agreed  that  he 
should  have  Jim's  services  until  he  should 
come  home  again  or  until  the  war  was  over, 
provided  Jim  was  still  willing  to  go.  When 
questioned  about  it  he  immediately  replied, 
"  Yes,  Missus,  I  wants  to  go  berry  much. 
An  I  thinks  it  be  fur  de  repertation  ob  de 
fambly  dat  Mars  Hugh  hab  somebody  ter 
wait  on  him  and  ter  take  keer  ob  his  hoss,  an 
I  don  know  ob  nobody  kin  do  it  any  better'n 
Jim  kin.  Ob  cose  I  likes  to  stay  wid  de 
Missus  ef  she  need  me,  but  she  don  peer  to 
much  as  Mars  Hugh  do." 

"Well,  Jim,"  said  Mrs.  Darnaby,  "you 
can  go,  and  now  you  must  be  a  good  boy 
and  take   care    of  Mars  Hugh."     "  Tes'm," 


HUGH  DARN ABY.  95 

answered  Jim,  and  a  broad  grin  overspread 
his  whole  countenance.  "  I  thank  you, 
Missus.  I  will  take  good  keer  ob  Mars 
Hugh  fer  you  and  bring  him  back,  too." 

"  Well,  then,  Jim,  that  is  a  promise,  and 
you  must  take  care  of  yourself,  too  ;  so 
good-by  and  God  bless  you  both." 

"  Good-by,  Missus,  God  bress  you,"  and 
he  started  toward  the  cabin  to  make  a  few 
hasty  preparations  for  the  journey. 

He  proceeded  to  his  own  room,  took  from 
a  closet  his  "  Sunday  clothes  "  and  a  couple 
of  clean  shirts,  and  dressed  himself. 

In  looking  over  the  clothes  he  wished  to 
take  with  him  he  found  that  there  was  a 
button  off  of  one  of  the  shirts.  He  hallooed 
down  the  stairs,  "  Say,  Mandy,  kin  you  sew 
a  button  fur  me?"  And  a  voice  replied, 
"  Guess  I  kin."  Then,  after  a  pause,  "  Mus 
be  gwine  somewhar  t'night  or  t'morrow. 
"You  is  a  right  smart  gal,  Mandy,"  said  Jim, 
coming  down  the  stairs  with  a  garment  need- 
ing attention  in  his  hand.     "  You  is  a  right 


96  HUGH  DARNABT. 

smart  gal,  but  you  ain't  quite  smart  nuff  to 
know  whar  Jim  gwine  dis  time." 

"  Whew,"  she  whistled,  "  You  is  done  up 
spruse.  Pears  like  you  is  in  a  big  hurry 
to  git  away,  anyhow,  whareber  you  is  gwine." 

Jim  knew  that  he  did  not  have  much  time 
to  talk,  so  he  said  "Mandy,  you  is  a  good 
gal,  an  I  thinks  right  smart  ob  you."  "  Oh 
you  go  way  from  here,  Jim,"  she  retorted, 
"You  don  think  as  much  ob  me  as  you  dose 
ob  Pendleton's  Em.  Soon  's  you  git  dat 
button  sewed  on  you  don  keer  nothing  bout 
Mandy."  "Now  look  here,  Mandy,"  replied 
he,  "You  jes  sew  dat  button  on,  an  I  will 
tell  you  whar  Ise  gwine." 

And  curiosity  to  know  more  conquered 
her  coquettishness,  and  she  took  the  garment 
and  began  fastening  the  button  on.  As  Jim 
witnessed  the  celerity  with  which  the  needle 
flew  he  began  to  talk. 

"  Ise  gwine  to  de  wah  wid  Mars  Hugh." 

She  almost  jumped  from  her  chair.  "  No  !'* 
ejaculated  she,  "  not  to  de  wah  ?  " 


HUOH  DARNAB  Y.  97 

"  Yes  I  is,  Mandy.  An  you  won't  see  me 
fur  a  long  time,  and  maybe  neber."  The 
fact  was  that  Jim  had  been  making  quite  a 
shine  to  Mandy,  as  the  darkies  used  to  say, 
and  now  the  result  was  that  the  button  was 
quickly  sewed  on.  And  then  Jim  made  his 
peace  with  her,  as  well  as  certain  arrange- 
ments for  the  future  before  going  away. 


98         HUGH  DARNABT. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  PERRYYILLE  IS  FOUGHT.  THE 
NEGROES  ARE  EMANCIPATED.  THE  WAR  IS 
OVER,  AND  HUGH  COMES  HOME. 

It  was  a  good  many  miles,  forty,  perhaps,. 
to  the  scene  of  the  battle  which  had  caused 
the  abbreviation  of  Hugh's  visit  to  his  home. 
Monday  after  the  day  on  which  he  and 
Captain  Elliott  left  was  hot,  though  it  was 
past  the  time  for  summer  heats.  The  sun 
burned  through  to  the  shoulders  of  the 
persons  who  were  out  from  beneath  the 
shelter  of  the  roofs  or  trees.  The  dust  lay 
thick  and  powdered  in  the  roads,  and  the 
grass  was  parched  and  lifeless  in  the  fields. 
The  only  things  which  seemed  to  be  enjoy- 
ing life,  even  in  the  smallest  degree,  were 
the  few  remaining  grasshoppers.  Occasion- 
ally one  of  these  would  set  up  a  rasping. 


HUOH  DARNABY.  99 

aggravating  kind  of  a  noise  from  the  fence 
corner,  which  made  things  seem  hotter  than 
before.  Everything  was  quiet  and  still; 
even  the  cows  under  yonder  clump  of  trees 
across  the  road  had  ceased  to  chew  the  cud, 
'and  were  lazily  fighting  the  flies  with  their 
tails. 

People,  as  well  as  the  lower  animals,  were 
waiting  for  a  breeze,  or  for  the  night  to 
come,  hoping  that  it  might  cool  the  atmos- 
phere. 

Once  in  a  while  such  days  come  in  Octo- 
ber in  Kentucky.  And  the  people  were 
waiting  for  news  also.  Oh,  the  suspense  of 
those  days.  Worse,  far  worse  was  it  than 
even  the  certainty.  It  was  pretty  generally 
known  in  the  neighborhood  that  a  battle 
had  been  fought ;  some  even  declared  that 
they  had  heard  the  boom  of  the  cannon,  but 
nothing  was  definitely  known  as  to  the  re- 
sult. 

Mrs.  Darnaby  had  been  standing  at  one 
of  the  front  windows  of  the  house  wrapped 


I 


100  HUOH  DARNABT. 

in  reverie.  Suddenly  a  little  cloud  of  dust 
rose  from  the  road  which  ran  in  front  of  the 
house.  It  attracted  her  attention  as  being 
the  one  thing  in  the  whole  landscape  which 
had  the  energy  to  rise  and  stir  itself. 

She  watched  it,  expecting  to  see  it  fall 
again  immediately  whence  it  came,  wonder- 
ing what  had  caused  it,  wondering  in  that 
abstracted,  semi-conscious  way  in  which  we 
often  interest  ourselves  even  in  the  most 
trivial  things,  especially  on  such  a  day  as 
this,  when  nature  as  well  as  ourselves  seem 
to  be  in  a  dreamy  state. 

But  the  little  cloud  of  dust  did  not  sink 
to  earth.  It  grew  in  size  and  seemed  to  be 
moving  along  the  road. 

What  current  of  air  could  have  preferred 
the  hot  dusty  roadway  to  the  cooler  shades 
of  the  woods  ?  She  watched  it  more  con- 
sciously now,  trying  to  unravel  this  mystery ; 
and  presently  she  saw  a  figure  moving 
along  and  accompanying  the  cloud  of  dust. 
The  figure  soon  assumed  the  appearance  of 


HUGH  BARNABY.  101 

a  man.  Nothing  very  strange  in  this.  It 
moved  on,  reeling. 

She  thought  that  the  man  was  drunk,  and 
moved  away  from  the  window  to  get  her 
sewing.  But  she  soon  returned  and  sat 
down  by  the  same  window  not  noticing  any- 
thing without. 

She  sat  there  and  sewed  for  half  an  hour 
perhaps,  when  a  breath  of  fresh  air  coming 
in  at  the  window  caused  her  to  pause  in  her 
work,  and  looking  up,  in  order  to  try  and 
catch  enough  of  it  to  fill  her  lungs  with,  she 
saw,  as  her  glance  again  took  in  the  situa- 
tion, that  a  very  good-sized  cloud  of  dust 
had  arisen  from  the  bed  of  the  road  and 
was  following  its  course,  and  that  in  it  were 
several  men,  reeling  and  tottering  and  walk- 
ing as  do  the  lame  and  the  halt. 

She  had  not  noticed  it,  but  figures  one  at 
a  time  had  been  passing  for  the  last  hour  or 
more. 

Presently  a  little  darkey  came  running 
into  the  room  with  eyes  as  big  as  attenuated 


102  HUGH  DARNABT. 

moons,  displaying  enough  "  chalk  "  as  might 
be  sufficient  to  supply  the  pupils  of  the  dis- 
trict school  for  some  weeks. 

'■'  Ole  Miss,"  she  cried,  "  whole  lot  of  men 
■wid  blue  close  on  is  comin'  down  de  road. 
Mandy  say  dey  is  sodgers,  but  I  done  see 
em  hab  no  guns." 

Then  Mrs.  Darnaby  arose  and  went  to  the 
front  door,  and  she  saw  standing  at  the 
front  gate  and  looking  through  the  bars  a 
Union  soldier.  His  tongue  was  actually 
hanging  from  his  mouth,  and  he  seemed 
about  ready  to  give  out.  He  saw  her,  too, 
and  made  motions  to  her  as  if  in  distress, 
which,  indeed,  he  was.  He  could  hardly 
talk,  but  he  managed  to  say,  "  Water, 
water."  She  asked  him  to  come  up  to  the 
house,  but  he  shook  his  head.  She  then 
called  to  one  of  the  negroes  who  was  stand- 
ing back  in  the  yard  to  bring  a  bucket  of 
water  and  a  cup. 

When  he  saw  it  coming  the  eyes  of  the 
soldier   brightened   up   considerably.     And 


HUGH  BARN ABY.  103 

drink !     How  that  poor  panic-stricken  sol- 
dier did  drink. 

After  satisfying  his  thirst  and  filling  his 
canteen  with  the  precious  liquid  he  thanked 
her  and  would  not  stop  longer.  He  told  her 
that  there  had  been  a  great  battle  and  that 
"  we  were  whipped  badly."  And  no  doubt 
he  was  honest  in  that  belief,  for  when  he  left 
the  field  it  was  going  wrong  for  his  side. 
Although  he  was  some  forty  or  more  miles 
from  the  scene  of  action,  he  seemed  not  yet 
to  be  satisfied  with  the  distance  which  lay 
between  himself  and  the  dreaded  foe. 

And  for  the  rest  of  that  day  Mrs.  Dar- 
naby  and  her  sister  and  the  negroes  about 
the  place  were  kept  busy  carrying  water  for 
the  weary  refugees  who  soon  began  to  come 
in  increased  numbers  and  often  in  small 
squads.  Very  few  there  were  who  had  not 
disposed  of  their  guns,  and  all  were  in  a 
hnrry  to  push  on. 

Several  parties  during  the  day  stopped 
long  enough  to  get  something  to  eat,  and 
were  gone  like  the  rest. 


104  HUGH  DARNABY. 

Very  tired  were  these  "  Good  Samaritans  " 
•when  the  shades  of  night  closed  on  the 
scene.  But  they  all  felt  that  they  had  done 
their  duty,  in  some  measure  at  least,  nor  did 
they  regret  it. 

Mrs.  Darnaby  did  not  wish  it  to  be  said 
that  she  had  refused  to  alleviate  distress  as 
best  she  could  when  the  opportunity  pre- 
sented itself.  She  remembered  her  own 
boys  and  knew  that  at  some  time  they  might 
be  in  just  such  dire  need  as  these  men,  and 
she  knew  that  she  would  bless  the  hand 
stretched  out  in  relief. 

This  is  not  altogether  a  fanciful  picture  of 
the  imagination,  for  there  are  those  living 
to-day  who,  if  they  will  only  unfold  the  tab- 
lets of  memory,  will  find  there  chronicled 
just  such  a  scene,  with  a  few  trifling  changes, 
bearing  date  a  few  hours  after  the  battle  of 
Perryville,  Kentucky. 

The  main  facts  will  find  reflection  in  the 
minds  of  some,  if  they  should  chance  to  read 
this   little   story,   who   having    fought   well 


HVOH  DABNABT.  105 

before  and  afterwards  perhaps,  are  now 
enjoying  the  fruits  of  victories  well  won,  in 
their  declining  years. 

I  know  not  who  they  were,  nor  to  what 
commands  they  belonged.  Each  one  knows 
for  himself.  And  I  do  not  tell  this  story  by 
way  of  reproach.  But  I  would  ask  each  one 
to  remember  the  cup  of  refreshing  water  he 
received  in  his  great  need  during  the  war,  in 
Kentucky,  for  it  was  given  in  the  name  of 
humanity. 

By  the  time  darkness  had  well  set  in  the 
straggling  line  of  men  had  almost  ceased  to 
pass,  and  Mrs.  Darnaby  and  her  little  force 
retired  to  the  house. 

The  dust  once  more  settled  down  into  the 
road,  and  quiet  again  reigned  supreme. 

A  few  days  later  a  Cincinnati  daily  newspa- 
per reached  Mrs.  Darnaby,  and  it  announced 
that  the  battle  of  Perryville  had  been  fought, 
resulting  in  the  defeat  of  the  Confederates. 
And  a  few  days  after  Mr.  Darnaby  came 
home  full  of  the  news  and  of  enthusiasm. 


106  HUOH  DARNABY. 

He  heard  of  Hugh's  having  been  at  home 
and  scolded  his  wife  somewhat  for  having 
let  Jim  and  the  colt  he  rode  go  away.  He 
had  met  Mr.  Pendleton  in  Louisville,  who 
reported  all  well  except  Mrs.  Pendleton, 
who  had  been  complaining  ever  since  she 
had  left  the  old  home. 

Taking  her  away  was  like  transplanting 
some  hardy  shrub,  taking  it  from  the  soil 
into  which  it  had  sunk  its  roots  deeply, 
from  that  in  which  it  had  thriven  for  years, 
to  a  new  and  less  congenial  soil,  and  to  which 
its  roots  refused  to  cling. 

When  Mr.  Daruaby  had  been  told  of 
Hugh's  exploits  in  the  military  line  he  was 
secretly  proud  of  his  boy,  and  was  somewhat 
mollified. 

After  this  things  began  to  assume  some- 
thing of  their  wonted  appearance  in  that 
section  of  the  State. 

The  war  cloud  rolled  away  further  south- 
ward, and  people  began  to  breathe  more 
freely,  and  before  a  great  while  the  "  pro- 


HUGH  DARNABY.  107 

clamation  "  declaring  the  negroes  to  be  free 
came,  and  later  still  a  call  for  them  to  volun- 
teer into  the  military  service  of  the  United 
States. 

One  or  two  of  the  colored  men  from  Mr. 
Darnaby's  place  responded  to  the  call,  while 
others,  with  their  families,  went  into  the  new 
negro  suburb  of  the  town  and  commenced  to 
pay  rent  and  to  keep  house  on  their  own  re- 
sources, in  the  one  or  two-roomed  houses 
which  had  been  erected  for  their  accommo- 
dation by  some  one  of  a  speculative  turn  of 
mind.  Some  did  very  well,  others  went  to 
the  dogs. 

Many  of  these  freedmen  worked  when 
they  pleased,  idled  the  greater  part  of  the 
time,  living  along  the  creek  banks  all  day 
long  with  fishing  rods  stuck  in  the  mud,  and 
being  perfectly  satisfied  as  long  as  the  sum- 
mer lasted  and  the  sun  shone.  And  when 
the  sun  was  down  and  the  winter  came,  they 
spent  their  time  frolicking,  carousing,  de- 
bauching, stealing,  and  working  when  com- 


108  HUGH  DARNABT. 

pelled  to  do  so  by  hunger  and  want.  They 
used  their  freedom  as  they  pleased,  not  by 
any  means  knowing  how  to  make  it  profit- 
able. 

Living  on  Mr.  Darnaby's  place  was  an  old 
couple  of  negroes  who  were  too  old  to  work. 
He  had  provided  them  with  comfortable 
quarters,  with  food  and  clothing,  with  many 
of  the  comforts  of  life,  and  even  with  some 
of  the  luxuries.  He  required  of  them  no 
labor.  He  expected  them  to  live  the  balance 
of  their  days  where  they  were.  But  they 
had  other  ideas  as  to  what  was  the  meaning 
of  freedom. 

The}'  had  been  freed,  of  course,  with  the 
rest,  and  they  thought  that  they  must  do 
some  overt  act  which  would  at  once  make 
apparent  the  fact  that  they  were  in  posses- 
sion of  this  inestimable  boon. 

This  old  couple  M'ere  among  the  first  to 
leave  him.  Verging  close  on  to  the  com- 
pletion of  their  three  score  years  and  ten, 
they  must  nevertheless  strike  out  to  begin 


HUGE  DARNABY.  109 

life  over  on  a  new  plan.  The  idea  of  free- 
dom had  dazed  this  old  couple  ;  they  did 
not  feel  that  they  were  free  so  long  as  they 
remained  with  Mars  Darnaby.  Expostula- 
tion was  in  vain  ;  they  could  not  be  reasoned 
with. 

They  had  been  slaves  all  their  lives  ;  had 
been  born  slaves,  and  now  they  were  free. 
This  was  all  they  knew  ;  this  was  all  they 
cared  to  know.  But  we  cannot  blame  them; 
their  education  in  regard  to  the  meaning  of 
civil  liberty  had  been  sadly  neglected,  and 
now  they  were  too  old  to  begin  to  learn  that 
the  external  semblance  of  freedom  and 
liberty  were  only  the  results  of  the  vital 
principle. 

It  was  indeed  a  stupendous  fact  that  they 
were  free.  It  was  a  grand  thing  that  it  had 
come  to  them  even  thus  late  in  life. 

It  was  an  immense  stride  in  the  direction 
of  philanthropic  and  advanced  thought. 

But  they  knew  it  not,  nor  understood  its 
significance. 


no  HUGH  DARN ABT. 

And  let  us  add,  in  this  connection,  that  it 
is  one  of  the  greatest  triumphs  of  the  age  in 
philanthropic  advancement  that  "  the  South 
is  glad  that  the  negroes  are  free ;"  that  its 
best  thought  recognizes  the  fact  that  now 
the  "  principle  "  upon  which  they  were  freed 
is  the  fundamental  principle  of  free  con- 
stitutional government  in  our  land.  What 
will  eventually  be  the  effect  of  their  freedom 
upon  our  institutions  is  a  problem  which  is 
not  yet  solved. 

The  old  cook,  Cilia,  Mandy's  mother,  re- 
fused to  leave  the  "  fambly."  She  had  lived 
with  them  for  many  years,  ever  since  she  was 
a  young  girl  in  fact.  She  was  very  much 
attached  to  them.  She  was  as  proud  of  be- 
ing a  "Darnaby  nigger"  as  any  white  mem- 
ber of  the  family  could  have  been  at  belong- 
ing to  it,  and  when  at  the  end  of  the  first 
week  of  her  freedom  the  week's  wages  were 
offered  to  her,  she  actually  shed  tears  be- 
cause it  was  thought  that  she  expected  or 
would  take  the  money.     And  it  took  a  good 


HUOH  DAENAB7.  HI 

deal  of  argument  and  much  persuasion  to 
induce  her  finally  to  understand  that  she 
would  need  it  by  and  by,  if  not  immediately; 
that  it  was  her  right,  and  that  she  must  take 
it  if  she  stayed  and  worked  for  her  old 
mistress. 

Things  were  not  very  prosperous  at  the 
farm  after  this  ;  in  fact,  the  whole  place  had 
been  running  down  at  the  heel,  as  it  were, 
for  some  time  back.  But  this  was  not  until 
along  toward  the  close  of  the  war.  The  war 
continued  for  some  time  after  this.  George, 
the  brother  next  older  than  Hugh,  was  killed 
at  Vicksburg  while  doing  his  duty,  and,  like 
many  another  brave  man  during  those  ter- 
rible years,  meeting  his  death  at  the  front. 

Hugh  and  his  oldest  brother,  on  opposing 
sides,  went  through  the  hardest  of  the  fight- 
ing in  the  southwest. 

Hugh  had  been  made  a  captain,  and  at 
last  the  struggle  was  over.  The  last  gun 
had  been  fired  at  Appomattox,  and  prepara- 
tions were  being  made  for  a  grand  review  of 


112  HUGH  DARNABT. 

the  Union  veterans  at  Washington  city. 
Hugh  and  Jim  came  home,  Hugh  still  riding 
his  old  war  horse,  Joe.  Joe  had  his  scars 
to  indicate  the  desperateness  of  the  struggles 
he  had  been  through,  and  Hugh  wore  his 
worn  and  battered  uniform  with  the  insignia 
of  his  rank  still  on  the  collar.  Jim  had  on 
a  Union  cavalry  jacket  which  he  had  cap- 
tured during  a  raid  upon  a  Federal  camp 
some  time  before. 

Hugh  had  not  surrendered  up  to  this  time. 
He  had  been  for  some  time  previously  away, 
for  the  time  being,  from  his  command,  which 
had  been  captured  or  had  scattered. 

As  soon  as  he  heard  of  General  Lee's  sur- 
render he  started  for  home,  and  was,  after  a 
long  and  tedious  journey,  there  again.  He 
had  not  heard  from  home  for  some  time 
before,  and  being  anxious  to  learn  something 
of  the  folks  he  passed  around  the  town  and 
went  directly  to  his  father's  house.  The 
next  day  he  went  into  town,  and  formally 
surrendered  to  the  commandant  there. 


HUGH  DABNABY.  113 

After  some  two  or  three  weeks  he  began  to 
look  around  in  the  hopes  of  finding  some- 
thing by  means  of  which  he  could  make  a 
living.  In  fact,  he  began  to  study  the  situa- 
tion, and  it  was  about  this  when  summed 
up  :  He  was  a  disfranchised  ex-rebel  soldier 
without  a  cent  of  money  in  the  world ;  with- 
out a  business  or  profession  of  any  kind  ;  in 
fact,  without  any  prospects  for  the  future. 

He  had  cast  in  his  fortunes  with  the  Con- 
federacy, and  it  had  ceased  to  exist.  The 
cause  for  which  he  and  so  many  others  had 
given  their  best  energies  was  lost.  He  was 
no  fool,  and  he  saw  the  difficulties  which  lay 
before  him. 

Dispirited  and  heavy-hearted  he  wandered 
aimlessly  about  the  place.  He  could  not 
and  would  not  let  his  father  support  him. 
Things  were  altogether  different  from  what 
they  were  before  the  war. 

He  could  see  clearly  what  a  good  many 
did  not  see  until  later  on,  and  that  was  that 
he  as  well  as  the  balance  of  the  young  men 


114  HUGH  DARKABT. 

of  the  South  must  begin  to  work  in  earnest, 
and  to  work  as  they  never  had  had  to  do  be- 
fore. His  just  pride  chafed  at  the  restraint 
which  he  must  put  upon  any  aspirations  he 
might  have.  His  manhood  rose  up  in  arms 
against  his  enforced  dependence ;  besides  his 
father  had  not  much  of  this  world's  goods 
left  except  the  farm.  And  really  there  was 
not  much  at  this  time  of  the  year  that  he 
could  do  about  the  place,  and  it  had  been 
arranged  that  his  brother  Thomas  should 
take  charge  of  the  place  in  the  future.  It 
was  too  soon  after  the  recent  stirring  and 
exciting  events  for  it  to  be  entirely  pleasant 
for  even  brothers  to  dwell  together,  after 
they  had  taken  opposite  sides  in  the  great 
struggle. 

The  father  was  kind  to  Hugh,  but  it  was 
almost  unconsciously  in  a  condescending 
sort  of  a  way  which  the  young  man  could 
not  stand. 

Although  he  was  still  convinced  of  the 
justness  of   the   cause  in  which  he  had  so 


HUGH  DARNABT.  US 

lately  been  engaged,  he  accepted  the  result 
and  determined  that  hereafter,  if  allowed, 
he  would  act  for  the  common  weal  of  a  com- 
mon country,  as  being  a  small  integral  part 
of  the  younger  generation  of  the  South. 

Captain  Thomas  Darnaby  was  soon  to 
wed  Florence  Grigsby  and  to  bring  her 
home  to  the  farm.  It  would  be  rather 
crowded  for  him,  he  thought.  The  only 
place  where  there  seemed  to  be  plenty  of 
room  for  him  was  in  his  mother's  heart. 
She  forgave  him  entirely  for  having  been  a 
rebel  soldier,  because  he  had  followed  the 
dictates  of  his  own  conscience,  and  she  re- 
ceived him  with  all  a  mother's  love. 

The  prodigal  had  returned,  and,  although 
he  was  not  exactly  sorry  for  what  he  had 
done,  still  he  had  fed  on  the  husks,  and  now 
in  her  heart  she  killed  the  fatted  calf  for 
him. 

Possibly  he  had  become  morbidly  sensi- 
tive. Be  that  as  it  might,  it  was  really 
time  for  him  to  find  a  place  among  the  toil- 


116  HUGH  DARNABT. 

ing  millions.  His  mother  encouraged  him 
very  much  during  this  period  of  waiting, 
advising  patience,  and  telling  him  that 
things  would  adjust  themselves  in  time  and 
that  he  would  find  his  place  in  life  as  every 
man  and  woman  always  did. 

She  spoke  of  the  Pendletons,  told  him  that 
Mrs.  Pendleton  was  dead,  and  had  been  dead 
almost  a  year.  She  also  told  him  that  Mr. 
Pendleton  had  lost  a  great  deal  of  money 
and  that  Annie  had  been  teaching  school 
and  giving  music  lessons  for  some  months 
in  order  to  help  eke  out  a  living. 

These  things  had  been  learned  through 
Florence  Grisby,  between  whom  and  Annie 
there  had  been  kept  up  a  desultory  corre- 
spondence. 

His  mother  told  him  that  soon  after  his 
visit  home  in  1862  Florence  had  written  to 
Annie  and  told  her  of  his  wound  and  that 
he  had  been  honored  and  had  risen  from  the 
ranks  to  a  lieutenancy,  and  that  Annie  had 
answered  expressing  her  gratification  at  the 


HUGH  DARNABY.  II7 

latter,  but  that  since  then  there  had  been  no 
allusion  to  the  subject. 

The  mother  told  him  that  she  had  sur- 
mised his  attachment  to  Annie,  and  she 
sought  to  give  him  hope  in  respect  to  that 
also. 

But  his  heart  would  rebel  in  spite  of  him- 
self, because  he  was  unable  to  go  to  her  now 
in  her  trouble. 


118         HUGH  DARNABY. 


CHAPTER  X. 

COUNTY  COURT  DAY  EN  KENTUCKY.     HUGH  STUDIES 
LAW. 

About  a  month  had  elapsed  since  Hugh 
had  arrived  home.  He  was  in  town  one  day — 
it  was  county  court  day.  This  is  a  day  on 
which  the  farmers  gather  in  numbers  in  the 
small  towns  throughout  Central  Kentucky. 

Cattle,  mules,  sheep  and  hogs  are  driven 
into  the  towns  in  droves  and  are  put  on  the 
market  on  the  public  squares.  It  is  the  day 
for  trading  and  trafficking  of  all  kinds.  It  is 
the  day  when  the  voice  of  the  auctioneer, 
who,  by  the  way,  is  quite  an  indispensable 
character  in  the  "  Blue  Grass "  region,  is 
heard  ringing  out  in  clarion  tones  across  the 
public  squares  of  the  different  towns. 

Sometimes  as  many  as  a  half  dozen  of 
these  voluble  gentlemen  are   heard  at    the 


EUOH  DARNABY.  119 

same  time  praising  the  goods  entrusted  to 
their  skill  in  selling,  telling  jokes,  and  keep- 
ing the  crowd  in  a  good  humor,  beseeching, 
inducing  them  by  any  and  all  means  to  buy. 

Horses  are  sold,  bank  stock  changes 
hands,  houses  and  farms  are  auctioned  off 
to  the  highest  bidder.  Buggies,  farming 
implements,  harness,  ploughs,  household 
goods,  any  and  every  conceivable  thing  or 
commodity  on  which  a  value  can  be  put,  is 
brought  to  this  market  and  exposed  to  the 
public  inspection  on  county  court  day. 

As  I  have  intimated,  almost  every  one,  who 
can  travel  at  all,  from  the  country  for  miles 
around  comes  to  town  on  that  day.  Some 
come  to  loaf  around  the  stores  and  drinking 
saloons  and  to  spend  the  day  in  talk  and 
gossip,  to  play  billiards  and  to  drink  to- 
gether. It  is  the  one  day  in  the  week  that 
a  good  many  farmers  wear  a  "  biled  shirt  " 
and  clean  collar. 

These  business  and  semi-social  gatherings 
had  been  somewhat  interrupted  during  the 


120  HUGH  DARNABT. 

war,  but  had  been  resumed  within  the  last 
few  months  with  renewed  vigor  and  were 
attended  in  increased  numbers. 

The  majority  of  the  men  had  been  away 
to  the  war  on  the  one  side  or  the  other. 
Some  had  stayed  at  home  and  held  their 
opinions  in  regard  to  the  merits  of  the  issue 
therein  contested. 

Most  of  those  who  came  back,  and  all  of 
those  who  had  remained,  still  held  their 
opinions,  possibly  modified  to  a  degree, 
especially  on  the  part  of  those  who  had  taken 
part  in  the  fighting. 

The  deplorable,  the  inevitable,  consequence 
was,  that  the  opinions  of  these  men  brought 
into  personal  contact,  often  while  under  the 
influence  and  excitement  of  strong  drink, 
clashed  quite  frequently. 

Consideration  for  those  holding  opposing 
opinions  was  not  as  pronounced  as  it  is  gen- 
erally supposed  to  be  in  Christian  communi- 
ties, and  frequent  personal  encounters  fol- 
lowed, sometimes  resulting  in  the  killing  of 


HUGH  DARNABT.  121 

one  or  more  persons,  at  other  times  in  seri- 
ous bodily  injury. 

It  was  thought  unsafe  to  go  unarmed,  and 
the  ready  weapon  was  brought  into  frequent 
use.  About  this  time  the  retailing  of  what 
became  known  as  fighting  whiskey  became 
very  profitable,  and  even  those  who  could 
afford  to  indulge  in  "  fancy  brands  "  were  not 
entirely  exempt  from  the  predominating  in- 
fluence of  the  baser  liquid. 

As  it  happened,  Hugh  escaped  any  per- 
sonal encounter  of  a  very  serious  character, 
only  on  one  occasion.  Some  months  after  this 
when  he  was  returning  to  his  lodgings,  after, 
nightfall,  having  come  to  town  to  live,  a  man 
who  was  a  general  bully  in  the  community, 
and  had  no  principles  or  fixed  convictions  of 
any  kind,  except  that  all  whiskey  was  good, 
undertook,  while  under  the  influence  of 
liquor,  to  stop  Hugh  on  the  street  and 
lecture  him,  as  well  as  to  state  his  maudlin 
opinions  of  the  "  d — n  rebels,"  and  particu- 
larly of  Hugh's  action  during  the  war  in  not 
very  complimentary  terms. 


122  HUGH  DARNAB7. 

The  result  was  that  Hugh  lost  control  of 
himself,  and  all  the  pent-up  feeling  and  the 
dormant  energy  in  him  burst  forth,  and  as 
quick  as  lightning  he  dealt  the  man  a  blow 
full  in  the  face  which  sent  the  bully  sprawl- 
ing onto  the  pavement.  And  this  action  of 
Hugh's  was  followed  up  by  giving  the  man  a 
sound  thrashing  which  he  never  forgot.  Of 
course,  a  crowd  had  gathered  by  this  time, 
and  the  next  morning  Hugh  was  arrested, 
plead  guilty  to  a  charge  of  assault  and  bat- 
tery, and  Captain  Tom  Darnaby,  Hugh's 
brother,  came  to  the  rescue  and  paid  the  fine, 
thereby  closing  forever  whatever  breach  of 
feeling  might  have  been  made  between  them 
on  account  of  their  different  sentiments  on 
the  war  issues. 

In  the  next  chapter  we  will  give  an  inci- 
dent in  our  hero's  life  which  fully  acquitted 
him  of  any  charge  of  rashness  of  which  he 
might  have  been  guilty  on  this  occasion. 

But  for  the  present  we  will  resume  our 
narrative  in  the  regular  course  of  events. 


HUGH  DARNABT.  123 

As  we  have  before  stated  Hugh  was  in 
town  on  county  court  day,  some  short  time 
after  he  had  returned  home,  and  not  having 
anything  in  particular  to  do,  he  loafed  around 
from  store  to  store,  and  occasionally  went 
into  the  public  square  to  listen  to  the  auc- 
tioneers talking  and  selling  the  different 
articles  placed  on  the  market. 

Looking  on  he  thought  that  he  might  be- 
come an  auctioneer.  It  required  no  capital 
except  a  pair  of  good  lungs,  a  fund  of  jokes, 
and  a  ready  wit.  Did  he  possess  these? 
The  lungs  he  knew  he  had,  and  he  knew 
some  good  jokes  ;  but  he  was  not  so  certain 
that  he  possessed  the  last-mentioned  re- 
quisite. 

The  fact  was  that  Hugh  had  a  good  deal 
of  dry  humor,  but  was  not  ready  enough 
with  it  to  make  a  very  successful  auctioneer. 
So  he  concluded  that  he  should  have  to  give 
up  that  idea,  and  he  turned  away  with  a 
sigh. 

Being  near  the  office  of  an  old  comrade  in 


124  HUGH  DARNABY. 

arms,  who  had  been  a  lawyer  before  the  war 
and  who  had  essayed  to  resume  the  practice 
of  his  profession  since  his  return,  pending 
his  restoration  to  citizenship,  Hugh  entered 
the  door. 

"  Good  morning.  Major,"  he  said  as  he 
entered,  "  I  was  not  particularly  busy  to-day 
as  you  may  surmise,  so  I  thought  I  would 
come  in  and  sit  a  few  minutes,  if  I  will  not 
be  in  the  way." 

"Well,  Captain,"  said  Major  Brown,  "I 
am  glad  to  see  you  ;  have  a  chair.  Business 
is  not  so  brisk  but  that  I  have  time  to  talk 
to  my  old  friends  when  they  come  in.  How 
are  you  getting  along,  old  fellow,  since  you 
came  back  home?  I  fancy  things  are  not 
quite  as  they  were,  my  boy.  "  These  two 
men  had  met  quite  frequently  during  the 
war,  and  each  had  seen  the  other  tried,  and 
each  knew  the  other  was  as  true  as  steel. 

"  You  have  made  yourself  pretty  scarce 
lately,  but  I  suppose,  like  the  rest  of  us  ex- 
rebel  soldiers,  you  have  been  looking  around 


HUGH  DARNABY.  125 

for  something  to  do,  and  that  has  kept  you 
pretty  busy  I  imagine." 

"  Well,  Major,"  replied  Captain  Darnaby, 
"  it  is  true  I  have  been  looking  around  try- 
ing to  find  an  opening,  but  as  yet  nothing 
has  seemed  to  open.  To  be  serious,  I  think 
I  shall  have  to  strike  out  for  the  *  far  West,' 
and  take  my  chance  of  starving  there.  The 
fact  is,  I  am  in  pretty  hard  luck." 

"  Look  here,  Hugh  Darnaby,"  said  the 
Major,  "  you  are  a  young  man  yet,  and  things 
are  going  to  be  better  for  us  here  before  very 
long.  Don't  you  go  away.  Why  don't  you 
study  law,  and  put  up  your  shingle  right  here 
at  home  ?  You've  got  sense  enough  to  make 
a  success  of  it,  and  I  think  that  you  have  the 
pluck  to  wait  for  a  practice.  If  you  want  to 
try  it  you  can  study  here  in  my  office. 

"I  have  a  few  books  left,"  he  continued, 
"  and  you  are  welcome  to  the  use  of  them.  I 
should  be  more  than  pleased  to  give  you  any 
assistance  in  my  power." 

"You   are    certainly    very   kind,  Major," 


I 


126  HUGH  DARNABF. 

said  Hugh,  "  and  I  don't  know  but  what  it 
might  be  a  good  idea ;  at  least  it  is  the  only 
thing  like  encouragement  that  has  come  to 
me  yet." 

"  Now,  Hugh,"  said  the  Major,  "  if  you  do 
undertake  this  thing  you  must  go  into  it  with 
a  determination  to  make  a  success  of  it.  It 
is  no  child's  play  to  become  a  lawyer,  but  I 
believe  you  can  do  it  if  you  but  once  make 
up  your  mind  to." 

"Well,  Major,"  said  Hugh,  "I  must  do 
something,  and,  thanking  you  for  your  kind 
offer,  I  will  think  the  matter  over  for  a  few 
days.  You  understand  that  my  hesitancy  is 
not  on  account  of  my  not  appreciating  the 
fact  that  all  the  obligation  is  on  my  side, 
but  you  know  that  this  is  a  thing  which, 
when  once  settled,  will  influence  my  whole 
future  perhaps,  Major,  and  a  person  must 
not  be  precipitate  in  such  matters.  I  shall 
determine  one  way  or  the  other  before  many 
days,  for  I  have  no  time  to  lose,  and  then  I 
shall  let  you  know  what  conclusion  I  have 
come  to. 


HUGE  DARNABY.  127 

"All  rigbt,"  said  the  Major,  "  take  your 
own  time,  my  boy ;  you  are  right  to  think 
before  you  leap." 

A  client  came  in  at  this  stage  of  the  con- 
versation, and  Hugh  soon  after  took  his 
leave.  He  did  think  this  matter  over,  and 
talk  it  over,  too,  with  his  mother. 

Ah,  when  do  we  grow  too  old  or  too  wise 
to  talk  matters  over  with  mother  ?  Surely 
not  until  contact  with  actual  living  sin  has 
killed  the  better  part  of  our  nature.  What 
man  is  there  among  us  who  does  not  seek 
woman's  council,  or  who  is  he  who  does 
not  always  find  sound,  practical  suggestions 
from  a  good  wife's  store  of  wisdom  ? 

Despise  it  not,  ye  men  of  the  world.  Make 
your  wife  interested  in  your  affairs  by  giv- 
ing her  a  voice  in  your  deliberations,  and  I 
will  venture  to  say  that  full  often  you  will 
be  surprised  at  the  acuteness  of  her  percep- 
tions. 

Let  me  beseech  you  to  look  on  the  marital 
relation  as  one  of  mutual  interests. 


128  HTIQB  DARNABY. 

Do  you  think  that  your  wife  has  no 
capacity  for  business?  Have  you  chosen 
for  her  the  gay  butterfly  existence  which  so 
many  live  ?  Then  don't  be  surprised  if  she 
lives  that  life.  If  you  are  content  that  she 
should  live  in  that  manner,  well  and  good. 
But  if  you  feel  that  there  should  be  some- 
thing different,  give  her  a  chance  ;  develop 
her,  make  a  companion  of  her,  show  her 
that  she  has  an  interest  in  the  success  or 
failure  of  your  undertakings,  and  in  nine 
cases  out  of  ten  you  will  find  her  aid  invalu- 
able. 

When  the  ardor  of  passionate  love  has 
begun  to  cool,  then  begin  to  weave  your  life 
into  hers,  make  your  interests  mutual,  and 
open  to  her  the  door  of  your  thoughts.  You 
will  find  the  door  of  hers  standing  ajar. 
Enter  and  you  will  find  treasures  untold. 
You  will  find  the  true  meaning  of  love,  and 
you  will  gain  a  friend,  dearer,  truer  and 
more  constant  than  all  others. 

But  I  have  lost  the  thread  of  my  story, 


HUGH  DA  RNAB  F.  129 

and  I  shall  not  apologize  for  this  digression. 
Skip  it,  you  who  object  to  moralizing,  but 
you  who  do  read  it  let  the  seed  sown  fall 
where  it  may  perchance  take  root  and  in 
time  bear  fruit. 

On  the  next  Saturday  afternoon  Hugh 
Daruaby  rode  his  horse  Joe  into  town  and 
hitched  him  to  the  rack  in  front  of  Major 
Brown's  ofl&ce.  Having  dismounted,  the 
young  man  walked  into  the  office  and  told 
the  Major  that  he  would  accept  his  kind 
offer  and  begin  reading  law  on  the  Monday 
following,  provided  that  the  Major  had  not 
repented  of  bis  suggestion. 

Now  Major  Brown  was  a  man  who  never 
did  things  by  halves ;  in  fact,  he  was  con- 
stantly doing  good  in  his  day  and  generation, 
in  his  whole-souled,  unobtrusive  way,  and 
we  may  well  surmise  that  he  was  still  agree- 
able to  the  arrangement  suggested  to  Hugh 
Darnaby.  Besides,  he  really  had  a  liking  for 
the  young  man  and  believed  in  a  future 
for  him. 


130  HVOH  DARNABY. 

Major  Brown's  office  was  a  one-storied 
brick  building  with  two  rooms,  one  in  the 
rear  of  the  other.  It  was  situated  directly 
on  the  street  which  ran  along  one  side  of  the 
public  square,  and  directly  opposite  the 
court-house.  It  was  a  splendid  position  for 
a  law  office. 

Well,  Monday  morning  came,  and  with  it 
came  Hugh  to  commence  his  new  lifework. 
He  had  thought  deeply  in  regard  to  this 
matter  of  choosing  a  profession,  and  had 
determined  that  he  would  succeed  if  it  were 
possible  to  do  so. 

As  time  went  on  he  studied  hard,  often 
spending  six  or  seven  hours  a  day  over  his 
books  in  the  back  room  of  Major  Brown's 
office.  It  was  weary  work  ;  but  the  thorough 
appreciation  of  the  fact  that  he  must  never 
give  up  bore  him  through. 

He  saw  from  observation  and  conversa- 
tion with  Major  Brown,  and  by  studying  the 
character  of  the  litigation  in  the  courts,  that 
there  would  be  plenty  of  work  for  lawyers  to 


HUGH  DARNABT.  131 

do  in  these  days,  in  the  way  of  fixing  up  old 
matters  and  in  adjusting  the  new,  which  had 
been  either  left  unfinished  at  the  breaking 
out  of  the  war,  or  having  grown  out  of  the 
division  of  sentiment  consequent  on  the 
same. 

Later  on  the  rights  of  citizenship  were 
restored  to  the  ex-Confederate  soldier  in  Ken- 
tucky. Good  friends  they  had  in  the  legis- 
lature, undoubtedly  true  and  faithful  Union 
men,  men  whose  loyalty  could  not  be 
impeached,  but  who  looked  upon  the  ex- 
Confederate  as  a  brother,  an  erring  brother 
perhaps,  but  still  as  a  brother  who,  having 
been  chastised  in  proportion  to  the  serious- 
ness of  his  ofi'ence  against  their  common 
mother,  the  State,  and  against  the  great  sis- 
terhood of  States,  should  now  be  restored 
to  fraternal  love,  with  its  consequent  rights 
in  the  family.  And  there  were  those  in, 
Washington  who,  while  they  hated  the  sin, 
had  not  learned  to  sin  themselves  by  hating 


132  HUGH  DARNAB7. 

the  sinner.  And  the  efforts  of  these  last 
were  paving  the  way  toward  reconstruction 
on  a  just  basis  tempered  with  that  Godlike 
quality,  mercy. 


HUGH  DARNAB  Y.  133 


CHAPTER  XI. 

AN  EXCITING  ELECTION  AT  WHICH   HUGH  ASSISTS 
IN   PREVENTING    TROUBLE. 

It  was  about  six  or  eight  months  after 
Hugh  Darnaby  began  to  study  law — months 
of  hard  study,  of  intense  and  earnest  appli- 
cation, months  in  which  Major  Brown  ren- 
dered him  invaluable  service  by  timely  sug- 
gestion and  explanation,  that  he  applied  for 
admission  to  the  bar,  and  was  ready  to  enter 
the  lists  of  professional  men. 

Of  course,  he  had  previously  obtained  his 
license,  having  undergone  an  examination  as 
to  his  qualifications  before  one  of  the  judges 
of  the  Court  of  Appeals.  And  now  he  hung 
out  his  "  shingle,"  new  and  bright  with  gilt 
letters,  and  bearing  the  simple  legend, 
"  Hugh  Darnaby,  Attorney-at-Law." 

He  had  lived  up  to  this  time  at  his  father's 
on  the  farm,  rendering  such  assistance  about 


134  HUaS  DARNABT. 

the  place  as  time  and  opportunity  had  per- 
mitted. In  the  meantime  Captain  Thomas 
Darnaby  had  married,  and  had  brought  his 
young  and  beautiful  bride  to  the  old  home. 

Florence,  the  new  sister,  and  Hugh  had 
become  great  friends  during  this  time,  for 
Hugh  was  always  polite  and  considerate  to 
ladies. 

Things  at  the  farm  had  become  more 
pleasant  to  him.  The  father  had  put  aside 
any  feeling  he  had  had  because  of  Hugh's 
having  gone  into  the  Confederate  army,  and 
Tom  and  he  had  learned  to  talk  over  war 
times  and  to  fight  their  battles  over  by  the 
blazing  fire  of  an  evening,  with  real  pleasure. 
Each  seemed  to  have  agreed  within  himself 
to  accept  things  as  they  were  and  to  make 
the  best  of  them.  After  all,  they  were  mem- 
bers of  the  same  family.  The  same  blood 
coursed  through  their  veins,  except  those  of 
the  young  wife,  and  she  was  now  one  of  them, 
made  such  by  a  tie  as  sacred  as  that  of  blood. 
In  short,  it  was  once  more  a  united  house- 
hold. 


HUGH  DARNABY.  135 

Tom's  wife  was  very  pretty  and  very 
lovable,  and,  although  she  had  a  brother  who 
had  been  in  the  Union  army,  and  who  was 
now  taking  his  father's  place  on  the  farm  as 
best  he  could  with  one  arm  in  his  coat  sleeve, 
still  she  almost  always  took  Hugh's  part  in 
the  frequent  discussions,  now  become  friendly, 
which  took  place  in  the  old  sitting  room. 

She  loved  her  husband  intensely ;  this  was 
evident  to  the  most  casual  observer;  but  it 
was  that  instinctive  element  in  woman's 
character  which  makes  her  sympathize  with 
and  anxious  to  render  what  assistance  is 
possible  to  the  weaker  side,  to  the  one  out- 
numbered, which  caused  her  to  side  with 
Hugh  so  frequently.  And  her  husband 
understood  her  motive. 

Hugh  walked  into  the  room  one  afternoon 
where  his  mother  and  Florence  were  sitting, 
and  announced  that  he  was  a  free  man  once 
more  and  a  citizen  of  the  United  States ;  that 
he  had  taken  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  sup- 
port  the    Constitution,  and   to  observe  the 


136  HUGH  DARN ABY. 

laws,  and,  said  he,  "  Mother,  my  heart  was  in 
the  words  as  I  repeated  the  form  of  the  oath." 

Soon  after  he  left  the  old  home,  the  home 
in  which  he  had  been  born  and  which  he 
loved  beyond  measure.  Every  nook  and 
corner,  every  tree  on  the  old  place,  was  dear 
to  him.  He  moved  into  the  back  room  of 
Major  Brown's  office.  The  Major  owned  the 
office,  and  would  not  charge  him  any  rent 
for  the  room.  He  told  Hugh  to  wait  until 
he  began  to  make  something  out  of  his  prac- 
tice and  that  then  if  he  wished  to  do  so  he 
could  pay  him  what  he  felt  able  to. 

More  than  once  during  the  next  year  Hugh 
Darnaby's  heart  and  courage  almost  failed 
him,  as  day  after  day  he  sat  poring  over  his 
books,  or  waited,  expectantly  at  first,  then 
listlessly,  then  almost  hopelessly.  Major 
Brown  often  spoke  encouraging  words  to 
him  during  this  trying  time.  The  Major's 
business  had  begun  to  pick  up  almost  im- 
mediately upon  the  removal  of  his  political 
disabilities,  and  had  by  this  time  increased 


HUOH  DARNABY.  137 

to  a  considerable  extent;  indeed  so  much  so 
that  his  time  was  fully  occupied. 

Very  frequently,  of  late,  he  had  given 
Hugh  a  certain  class  of  writing  to  do,  such 
as  copying  legal  documents,  drawing  up 
deeds  and  mortgages,  writing  petitions,  etc., 
all  of  which  tended  to  familiarize  him  with 
the  practical  part  of  his  profession. 

It  happened  that  while  things  were  in  this 
uncertain  state,  as  regards  Hugh's  profes- 
sional success,  an  election  took  place,  at 
which  the  ex-Confederates,  as  well  as  the 
emancipated  slaves,  were  expected  to  exer- 
cise the  right  of  suffrage.  It  was  to  be  the 
first  time  that  the  negroes  ever  voted  in  that 
county  and  town,  and  a  good  many  cool- 
headed  people  were  fearful  that  there  would 
be  trouble. 

The  place  for  voting  was  to  be  at  the  court- 
house, and  the  judges  and  clerks  of  election 
occupied  the  space  in  one  of  the  ground- 
floor  rooms,  just  in  front  of  a  window.  In 
order  to  prevent  any  jostling  in,  as  far  as 


138  HUGH  DARNABT. 

possible,  which  might  induce  personal 
encounters  between  the  whites  and  the 
blacks,  it  was  thought  best  to  erect  a  high 
and  strong  board  partition  extending  at  right 
angles  from  the  window  where  the  ballots 
were  to  be  cast  and  which  divided  the  poll- 
ing place. 

The  colored  population  who  were  entitled 
to  vote  were  to  approach  the  ballot  box  on 
the  left  of  this  partition,  and  the  whites  on 
the  right.  During  the  morning  the  excite- 
ment ran  pretty  high  and  seemed  to  be  on 
the  increase  as  the  day  advanced,  and  the 
frequent  indulgence  in  "  drinks "  did  not 
serve  to  allay  it. 

There  was  a  man  of  desperate  character 
in  the  town,  one  of  violent  passions,  who 
had  already  killed  more  than  "  his  man." 

This  fellow  had  been  drinking  consider- 
ably during  the  day  and  had  been  bringing 
the  negroes  to  the  polls  since  early  morning. 
Of  course,  there  was  more  than  the  usual 
challenging,  and  some  of  those  who  claimed 


HUGH  DARNABY.  139 

the  privilege  of  depositing  their  ballots  were 
denied  the  right.  At  last  this  man  of  whom 
we  have  been  speaking  brought  a  negro  to 
the  poll  and  o£fered  to  vote  him.  Now  it 
happened  that  this  negro's  right  to  vote  was 
challenged,  and  in  this  particular  instance 
the  Republican  judge  coincided  with  his 
Democratic  colleagues  in  deciding  that  the 
negro  could  not  be  allowed  to  deposit  his 
ballot,  and  having  personal  knowledge  in  re- 
gard to  the  facts,  told  the  aforementioned 
desperate  character  that  there  should  not 
be  any  illegal  votes  cast  on  either  side  if  he 
could  help  it,  and  he  knew  that  he  did  not 
want  any  such  cast  on  his  side. 

This  so  infuriated  the  bully,  whom  we 
shall,  for  reasons  satisfactory  to  ourself,  call 
John  Bills,  that  he  said,  "  And  you  say  this 
to  me,"  at  the  same  time  leaping  over  the  sill 
of  the  window  into  the  room  where  the 
judges  were,  and  cried,  "  Seize  the  ballot 
box." 

This,  of  course,  threw  things  into  the  ut- 


140  HUGH  DABNABY. 

most  confusion.  It  happened  that  a  window 
shutter  lay  across  the  top  of  a  box  in  the 
room  near  the  clerk's  table,  and  seizing  this 
John  Bills  raised  it  high  above  his  head  with 
the  intention  of  dashing  it  at  the  head  of  the 
judge  who  he  considered  had  undertaken  to 
reprimand  him.  And  undoubtedly  he  would 
have  dashed  his  brains  out  but  that  some- 
thing in  the  eye  that  looked  unflinchingly 
into  his  arrested  the  action  just  long  enough 
for  the  judge  to  say,  "  What  do  you  "want  to 
kill  me  for,  John ;  have  I  not  always  been 
your  friend?" 

And  that  little  delay  saved  his  life,  for 
another  idea  seemed  to  take  possession  of 
his  mind,  for  he  threw  the  shutter  down  on 
the  floor,  and  turned  and  grabbed  the  ballot- 
box.  The  clerks  and  sheriffs  and  all  other 
persons  in  the  immediate  vicinity  had  fled. 

At  this  instant  the  Republican  sheriff  of 
election  who  had  left  the  room  a  few  mo- 
ments before  the  difficulty  had  begun,  en- 
tered,  and,    taking   in   the   situation    at    a 


HV OH  DA RNA BY.  141 

glance,  and  knowing  the  man  with  whom  he 
had  to  deal,  sprang  upon  him  as  quick  as 
lightning,  at  the  same  time  drawing  his  re- 
volver and  leveling  it  at  his  head,  grabbed 
Bills  by  the  collar. 

"  Drop  that  box,  John  Bills,  or  I'U  kill 
you  as  I  would  a  dog." 

Bills  looked  the  sheriff  in  the  eye  for  a 
second  and  then  let  the  ballot-box  fall  upon 
the  table  where  it  belonged. 

"Now,"  said  the  sheriff,  "you  come  to 
jail  with  me." 

And  so  the  arrest  was  made,  but  the  mat- 
ter was  not  pushed,  and  Bills  was  soon  re- 
leased. 

Instead  of  quieting  down,  however,  Bills 
proceeded  up  town  and  commenced  drink- 
ing heavily,  and  haranguing  the  negroes  in 
every  grog  shop  he  entered,  telling  them 
that  their  rights  were  being  trampled  on, 
and  that  if  they  did  not  use  force  their  side 
would  lose  the  election,  and  they  would  be 
put  back  into  slavery. 


142  HVOH  DARNABT. 

Already  excited  to  a  very  high  pitch  and 
maddened  by  whiskey  to  a  degree  almost 
beyond  control,  they  believed  what  he  told 
them,  and  it  so  happened  that  in  an  incred- 
ibly short  space  of  time  a  mob  of  two  or 
three  hundred  negroes  were  armed  and  on 
the  public  square  which  surrounds  the  court- 
house. 

In  front  of  these  John  Bills  threw  himself 
and  assumed  their  leadership.  He  quickly 
formed  them  into  line,  and  began  to  incite 
them  to  immediate  and  desperate  action. 

On  the  other  hand  the  whites,  mostly  ex- 
Confederate  soldiers,  as  fast  as  possible, 
armed  themselves  from  the  hardware  stores 
and  gun  shops  with  pistols,  shot-guns,  and 
whatever  weapon  they  could  procure,  and 
formed  an  opposing  line  just  across  the 
square.  Soon  the  stores  had  sold  out  their 
entire  stock  of  weapons,  and  a  word  would 
have  precipitated  the  affair  into  a  scene  of 
bloodshed  and  dire  confusion,  when  a  form 
was  seen  suddenly  to  shoot  into  the  space 


HUOH  DARNABT.  '         143 

between  the  hostile  lines,  and  a  voice  was 
heard  crying,  "  Fellow  citizens,  stop  a  mo- 
ment and  listen." 

Immediately  afterwards  two  or  three 
other  persons  were  standing  in  this  space, 
exhorting,  haranguing,  expostulating,  rea- 
soning with  the  angry  men  on  either  side, 
who  were  about  to  become  a  bloody  and 
uncontrolable  mob.  And  having  gained  the 
attention  of  those  whom  they  addressed, 
these  men  ceased  not  their  efforts  to  stem 
the  current  of  bitter  and  angry  feeling  until 
it  was  done. 

Blessed  are  the  peacemakers.  Surely 
these  men  will  meet  their  reward  when  all 
things  become  known  and  are  finally  adjusted 
according  to  eternal  justice  and  mercy.  The 
men  who  had  thus  nobly  and  heroically 
braved  the  fury  of  the  mob  were  our  friend 
Hugh  Darnaby,  the  mayor  of  the  town,  a 
Democrat,  the  Eepublicau  sheriff  of  the 
election,  and  the  United  States  marshal  for 
that  district.     When  it  was  all  over  Hugh 


144  HUGH  DABNABT. 

went  back  to  bis  office  in  tbe  rear  of  Major 
Brown's,  very  pale,  very  tired,  but  exceed- 
ingly glad.  And  tbe  action  of  tbat  day  bore 
fruit  in  tbe  good  will  and  respect  of  tbe 
wbole  community. 

Time  went  on,  and  at  last  Hugb  was 
startled  almost  out  of  bis  cbair  by  tbe 
abrupt  entrance  of  a  person  into  tbe  front 
room  of  tbe  office.  Major  Brown  bappened 
to  be  in  at  tbe  time,  and  calling  tbe  person 
by  name  as  be  answered  bis  question,  be 
said,  "  Yes,  Mr.  Darnaby  is  in  tbe  back 
room.  Just  step  in  tbere."  And  tbus  Hugb 
secured  bis  first  client,  and  would  try  bis 
first  case  at  tbe  next  term  of  tbe  court.  He 
was  as  bappy  as  a  scbool  boy.  So  mucb 
elated  was  be  tbat  be  walked  out  borne  tbat 
very  evening — be  still  called  tbe  old  place 
borne — to  tell  tbe  good  news  to  bis  motber. 

Hugb  Darnaby  was  a  very  brigbt  man, 
but  witbal  very  simple-bearted.  He  was 
still  very  mucb  of  a  boy  in  many  tbings.  Of 
course,  all  tbe  bome  folks  gave  him  all  tbe 


HUOH  DARN  A  BY.  145 

sympathy  that  was  expected  and  predicted 
great  things  for  him  in  the  future. 

In  all  these  months  he  had  not  forgotten 
his  early  love  for  Annie  Pendleton,  and  he 
had  wished  to  go  to  her,  and,  if  possible, 
save  her  from  the  necessity  of  making  her 
own  living.  But  what  had  he  to  offer  her  ? 
He  was  hardly  making  enough  yet,  with 
some  occasional  help  the  home  people  could 
give  him,  to  support  himself  alone,  and  he 
would  not  think  of  asking  her  to  share  with 
him  even  a  greater  poverty  than  that  which 
she  might  be  now  contending  against. 

So,  baffled  and  discouraged,  he  had  decided 
to  wait  awhile  in  the  hope  that  things  would 
improve  financially.  Besides,  he  did  not 
know  but  that  her  feelings  toward  him  had 
changed  in  the  length  of  time  since  he  had 
seen  her.  He  thought  for  awhile  that  he 
would  write  to  her,  remind  her  of  her  promise 
to  him  when  he  left  home  for  the  war,  and 
tell  her  that  his  heart  was  still  hers ;  but 
what   could  he  sav  to  her  in  a  letter  that 


146  UGH  DARNAB  T. 

would  be  at  all  satisfactory — what  had  he 
to  offer  her  any  way  ?  Should  he  ask  her 
to  wait  on  indefinitely  until  he  was  in  a 
position  to  offer  her  marriage  with  any 
reasonable  expectation  of  being  able  to  give 
her  the  comforts  of  life  ?  Would  it  not  seem 
rather  presumptuous  to  write  at  all  on  this 
subject  after  so  great  a  length  of  time  ?  He 
could  not  bring  himself  to  write  under  the 
circumstances.  Poor  fellow !  If  he  could 
have  gone  to  her  and  offered  her  his  heart 
and  hand  as  he  had  done,  oh,  so  long  ago  it 
seemed  to  him,  he  would  have  done  so. 
But  he  could  not;  the  war  had  changed 
everything.  Time  had  changed  many  things 
it  was  true.  It  had  changed  her  from  a  girl 
into  a  woman  at  least.  He  himself  was 
changed  in  many  respects,  and  might  she, 
too,  not  have  changed  in  more  respects  than 
having  grown  older  ?     He  must  wait. 

Soon  a  letter  came  from  Annie  Pendleton 
to  Florence,  stating  that  her  father  had  been 
stricken  with  paralysis  and  was  almost  help- 
less. 


HUGH  DARNABY.  147 

And  after  this  these  two  lives,  those  of 
Hugh  and  Annie,  drifted  farther  apart  for  a 
time. 

The  term  of  court,  at  which  Hugh  was  to 
try  his  pinions  as  a  lawyer  came  on  in  due 
time,  and  to  make  a  long  story  short,  he  won 
his  case  and  pocketed  his  first  fee. 

It  was  at  this  term  that  through  the 
whispered  suggestion  of  Major  Brown,  the 
court  appointed  Captain  Hugh  Darnaby  to 
defend  a  poor  negro,  who  was  unable  to 
employ  council. 

This  negro  had  been  indicted  for  murder. 
Hugh  was  taken  completely  by  surprise,  but 
managed  to  ask  the  court  for  time  in  which 
to  consult  with  the  prisoner,  nor  did  he 
much  like  the  task  which  had  been  assigned 
to  him. 

He  feared  that  the  negro's  guilt  was  a 
foregone  conclusion,  and  that  he  would  be 
enabled  to  make  but  a  poor  showing  before 
a  jury.  Nevertheless,  he  must  do  what  he 
could  for  the  poor  fellow,  and  after  consult- 


148  HUOH  BARNABT. 

ing  with  tbe  prisoner,  lie  began  to  think  that 
there  was  a  chance  for  him,  and  that  after 
all  only  appearances  were  against  his  client. 
So  it  happened  that  Captain  Hugh  Darnaby, 
he  who  had  faced  death  at  the  mouth  of  the 
roaring  cannon,  and  had  done  more  than  one 
deed  of  valor  in  the  face  of  the  enemy,  stood 
trembling,  yet  determined,  before  the  court, 
and  stated  what  he  expected  to  be  able  to 
prove  in  defence  of  the  prisoner  by  certain 
eye-witnesses  to  the  tragedy,  which  resulted 
in  the  death  of  a  human  being,  provided  he 
might  have  the  opportunity  to  produce  these 
witnesses  before  the  court.  He  stated 
further  that  on  account  of  the  ignorance  of 
the  prisoner  as  to  what  rights  he  had  in  the 
premises,  and  on  account  of  his  friendless 
condition,  his  case  had  been  entirely  neg- 
lected, and  that  a  great  wrong  would  be  done, 
unintentionally,  of  course,  if  a  request  for 
time,  which  request  he  now  made,  was  not 
granted,  in  which  to  subpoena  witnesses, 
and  in  which  to  further  prepare  the  case  for 
trial. 


HUGH  DARNABY.  I49 

He  would  not,  however,  ask  for  further 
delay  than  that  the  court  should  set  some 
day  toward. the  end  of  the  term  for  the  trial. 
And  the  court  did  grant  his  request,  and  set 
a  day  just  one  week  oflf. 

Hugh  now  went  to  work  in  earnest.  He 
did  not  let  a  moment  slip  by.  He  even  used 
a  part  of  his  fee,  received  in  the  first  case  in 
which  he  was  retained,  hired  a  horse  and 
buggy  and  assisted  the  sheriff  in  hunting  up 
the  witnesses,  for,  in  addition  to  the  stimulus 
lent  to  his  exertions  by  the  consciousness 
that  his  whole  future  depended  in  great 
measure  on  the  way  in  which  he  managed 
the  case,  he  believed,  from  what  the  negro 
had  told  him,  that  the  homicide  of  which  he 
was  charged  had  been  committed  in  self- 
defence. 

He  believed  that  he  was  on  the  right  aide 
this  time,  and  he  determined,  if  possible,  to 
make  it  clear  to  the  jury  which  would  sit  in 
judgment  on  the  actions  of  the  prisoner  in 
this  matter,  that  he  was  right.     He  became 


150  HUGH  DARNABT. 

intensely  interested  before  the  day  set  for 
the  trial  came. 

He  forgot  to  think  of  himself  finally,  as 
well  as  of  any  stake  in  the  matter  of  reputa- 
tion which  might  be  involved,  and  became 
so  thoroughly  convinced  of  the  negro's  inno- 
cence of  the  crime  as  charged  against  him 
that  he  determined,  if  in  his  power,  to  se- 
cure his  acquittal.  It  became  as  a  sacred 
trust  to  him,  and  he  fully  understood  the 
grave  responsibility  resting  upon  him  ;  and 
the  same  spirit  which  Major  Brown  had 
seen  dominate  Hugh  in  battle  took  posses- 
sion of  him  as  the  time  for  the  issue  ap- 
proached. He  had  determined  to  win  for 
the  sake  of  justice  and  in  the  interest  of 
humanity ;  and  he  would  not  fail.  Hugh 
had  become  quite  popular,  socially,  in  the 
town  since  he  had  come  to  live  in  it,  and 
especially  among  the  ladies,  who  had  learned 
the  history  of  his  military  career  and  were 
disposed  to  make  a  lion  of  him  on  account 
of  it. 


HUOE  DABNABT.  151 

Major  Brown,  during  the  last  week,  had 
taken  particular  pains  to  announce  every- 
where he  went,  to  his  clients  and  friends, 
that  Captain  Hugh  Darnaby  was  going  to 
make  his  maiden  speech  in  a  murder  trial, 
and  that  he  predicted  for  him  a  grand  suc- 
cess, saying,  "  The  young  fellow  is  in  earnest, 
and  if  you  had  seen  him  fighting,  as  I  have 
seen  him,  with  his  whole  soul  in  it,  just  as 
if  he  thought  that  the  success  or  failure  of 
the  Confederacy  depended  on  him  alone, 
you  would  understand  why  I  expect  a  hard 
fight  on  his  part  this  time." 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  his  line  of 
defence,  and  I  suppose  the  negro  is  guilty. 
Caruthers  is  a  shrewd  fellow  and  a  good 
lawyer.  Mr.  Caruthers  was  the  prosecuting 
attorney  for  the  commonwealth  in  that  cir- 
cuit, but,  if  I  am  not  sadly  mistaken,  he  will 
meet  his  match  this  time,  especially  if  Dar- 
naby gets  warmed  up  to  his  work,  and  I 
think  that  he  is  warming. 

"  We  will   have   some  nice   seats   for  you 


152  HUGE  BARNABT. 

ladies  if  you  will  come  to  hear  him,"  he 
said  to  his  lady  acquaintances.  "  Mrs. 
Brown  is  going."  And — well  that  settled  it ; 
and  it  so  happened  at  any  rate  that  the 
court-room  was  crowded  when  the  case  was 
called. 


HUGH  DARNABY.  I53 


CHAPTER  XII. 

HUGH   MAKES    HIS   MAIDEN   SPEECH. 

The  Commonwealth  of  Kentucky  v.  Silas 
Green,  charged  with  murder,  read  the  court 
from  the  docket. 

"  The  Commonwealth  is  ready,"  answered 
Mr,  Caruthers. 

Then  the  court  inclined  its  head  in  the 
direction  of  Hugh  and  asked :  "  Mr.  Dar- 
naby,  is  the  defence  ready  ?" 
.  "  Yes,  your  honor,"  answered  Hugh. 

"  Then  you  will  proceed,  gentlemen." 

The  jury  was  called,  objections  and  chal- 
lenges made,  etc.,  until  a  panel  was  chosen, 
the  indictment  read,  the  case  stated  by  the 
attorney  for  the  prosecution  and  also  for 
the  defence  by  Hugh,  and  the  examination  of 
the  witnesses  began.  As  the  examination 
proceeded  the  commonwealth's  attorney  re- 


154  HUGH  DARNABY. 

alized  that  he  had  harder  work  before  him 
than  he  had  anticipated  in  the  beginning. 

Hugh's  manner  was  cool  and  collected 
after  the  first  few  questions,  and  it  soon  be- 
came evident  to  both  judge  and  jury  that  he 
was  endeavoring  to  extract  the  truth,  and 
that  only  from  the  witnesses,  and  that  he 
was  doing  it  in  the  most  direct  and  skillful 
manner. 

-  He  had  already  made  out  a  strong  case  in 
favor  of  the  innocence  of  the  prisoner  when 
his  witnesses  were  allowed  to  leave  the  stand, 
for  he  had  brought  out  the  simple  truth 
relating  to  what  had  occurred  at  the  time  the 
homicide  was  committed,  in  as  far  as  each 
knew  it. 

The  Commonwealth's  attorney  made  a  very 
ingenious  argument  and  a  strong  speech  to 
the  jury.  And  then  Hugh  rose  from  his 
seat  inside  the  bar,  walked  around  the  table, 
and  stood  before  the  jury.  Some  of  them 
he  was  acquainted  with,  others  he  did  not 
know  personally. 


HUOS  DARNABY.  155 

After  laying  the  liandkerchief,  which  he 
held  in  one  hand,  on  the  table,  he  began  : 

"  May  it  please  the  court,  and  gentlemen  of 
the  jury ; "  his  voice  trembled  perceptibly,  and 
he  was  evidently  very  much  embarrassed. 

Major  Brown,  sitting  within  the  bar  with 
his  wife  on  one  side  of  him,  and  a  very 
pretty  little  widow  on  the  other,  felt  that  now 
was  the  crisis  for  Hugh. 

Hugh  took  a  hasty  glance  around  the 
room,  saw  his  father  close  to  the  railing 
which  divides  the  bar  from  the  rest  of  the 
room,  saw  his  brother  Thomas  farther  back, 
saw  Major  Brown,  saw  the  face  of  the  pretty 
little  widow  full  of  expectation,  lifted  his 
eyes  and  taking  in  the  gallery  saw  Jim's  black 
face  peering  over  the  railing ;  and  then  with 
a  look  of  determination  settling  down  over 
his  countenance,  he  proceeded  : 

"The  case  before  you,  gentlemen,  is  one  of 
peculiar  interest,"  all  this  had  not  used  up 
more  than  a  few  moment's  time,  and  Major 
Brown  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief,  for  he  knew 


156  HUGH  DARNABT. 

that  the  crisis  had  passed,  and  that  Hugh 
would  go  on  to  the  end  now. 

"  It  is  of  more  than  ordinary  interest," 
continued  Hugh,  "for  the  reason  that  the 
prisoner  here  charged  with  the  crime  of 
murder  belongs  to  a  race,  many  of  whom 
were  but  lately  your  bondsmen. 

"  It  is  only  very  recently  that  the  rights 
of  citizenship  have  been  given  to  these 
bondsmen,  and  among  those  rights  was  that 
of  trial  by  jury,  and  it  is  interesting  to  note 
the  fact  that  this  is  one  among  the  first  juries 
which  has  been  called  on  to  decide  a  question 
of  the  life  or  liberty  of  a  colored  citizen. 

"  I  know  that  it  is  not  an  easy  matter  for 
us  to  divest  ourselves  of  prejudices  in  respect 
to  this  emancipated  race,  which  might  inter- 
fere to  some  extent  at  least  with  an  unbiased 
consideration  of  the  facts  appearing  in  such 
a  trial  as  this  one. 

"  I  see  that  there  are  some  of  you,  who, 
like  myself,  did  cast  in  your  lot  with  the 
cause   which  is   lost,    others  of  you  I  see 


HUOH  DARNABT.  I57 

before  me  who  thought  it  right  to  cross 
Swords  with  us  over  the  issues  so  lately  con- 
tested, still  others  I  see  whose  political 
opinions  I  do  not  know  ;  but  I  do  not  fear 
but  that  you  will  try  this  case  just  as  you 
would  if  the  prisoner  was  of  your  own  color, 
nay,  if  possible,  with  even  a  greater  degree 
of  fairness,  and  that  we  shall  be  enabled  to 
join  hands  in  an  honest  endeavor  to  do 
justice  to  this  unfortunate  individual." 

And  Captain  Daruaby  proceeded  to  review 
the  evidence  as  it  had  been  adduced  on  the 
witness  stand,  explaining  to  the  jury  the 
particular  reference  of  the  law  to  certain 
parts  thereof,  gaining  confidence  as  he  pro- 
ceeded, often  rising  to  points  of  actual  elo- 
quence, warming  to  his  work,  as  Major  Brown 
remarked,  astonishing  the  older  lawyers  by 
the  quickness  of  his  grasp  on  salient  points 
in  his  adversary's  arguments ;  pleasing  the 
court  by  the  appreciation  with  which  he 
fixed  and  grasped  the  strong  points  of  the 
law  applicable  to  the  case  and  which  seemed 


158  HUGH  DARNAB7. 

to  be  in  bis  favor,  carrying  the  sympathy  of 
the  audience  outside  the  bar  from  the  first, 
and,  finally,  closing  with  every  man  on  the 
jury  convinced  of  the  innocence  of  the  pris- 
oner for  whom  he  was  pleading.  He  had 
been  able  to  prove  to  them  that  it  was  a  case 
of  self-defence  beyond  a  doubt.  And  when 
he  took  his  seat  after  speaking  an  hour  or 
more,  not  a  man  in  that  house  had  a  doubt 
as  to  what  the  verdict  would  be. 

The  Commonwealth's  attorney  closed  the 
argument  for  the  State,  and  the  jury  pro- 
ceeded to  the  "jury-room,"  where  they  re- 
mained about  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes,  when 
they  brought  in  a  verdict  of  not  guilty. 

Then  a  great  murmur  ran  through  the 
audience  assembled  in  the  court-room,  and 
some  began  to  applaud,  but  this  was  stopped 
by  the  sheriff  very  quickly. 

Several  of  the  lawyers  who  were  acquainted 
with  Hugh  came  forward  and  congratulated 
him  on  his  effort,  and  among  the  first  were 
the  Commonwealth's   attorney   and  Hugh's 


HUGH  DARNABY.  159 

old  friend,  Major  Brown.  The  latter  grasped 
Hugh's  hand  and  said,  "  Well  done,  m  j  boy  ; 
I  knew  it  was  in  you,"  and  turning  around, 
the  Major  introduced  him  to  the  pretty  little 
widow.  This  little  widow  was  a  Mrs.  Strong, 
who  had  accompanied  Mrs.  Brown  to  the 
scene  of  the  trial. 

Hugh  had  not  met  Mrs,  Strong  before ; 
she  was  a  recent  arrival  in  the  town.  She 
overwhelmed  him  with  compliments  and  best 
wishes  for  his  continued  success,  told  him 
where  she  was  stopping,  and  asked  him  to 
call.  She  was  a  smart  little  woman,  and  was 
determined  to  provide,  as  far  as  possible, 
for  any  and  all  future  contingencies. 

Hugh  Darnaby  said  afterwards,  relative  to 
his  feelings  when  he  got  up  to  make  his  ar- 
gument, that  he  was  all  right  and  at  his  ease 
after  he  had  glanced  up  into  the  gallery  and 
caught  a  glimpse  of  Jim's  face,  for  it  in- 
stantly occurred  to  him,  suppose  it  was  Jim 
in  the .  place  of  the  prisoner,  and  I  was  as 
well  convinced  of  his  innocence  as  I  am  of 


160  HUGH  DARNABY. 

this  man's,  what  would  I  do?  And  it 
enabled  me  to  so  bring  the  whole  matter 
home,  as  it  were,  that  I  forgot  everything 
except  that  I  was  fighting  for  an  inno- 
cent man's  life,  and  that  in  this  I  had  had  a 
sacred  trust  given  to  me,  and  it  gave  me 
courage  to  win. 

It  was  just  about  this  time,  when  Hugh 
was  gaining  in  popularity,  when  business 
began  to  come  to  him  quite  rapidly,  when  he 
had  begun  to  make  money  more  or  less  rap- 
idly, that  his  thoughts  reverted  to  Annie 
Pendleton  with  some  degree  of  hope  in 
them. 

It  was  when  his  name  was  in  every  mouth, 
when  he  was  courted  and  invited  to  all  the 
social  gatherings  as  the  hero  of  the  hour,  and, 
above  all,  when  he  began  to  see  his  way 
to  a  competency,  that  news  came  to  the 
effect  that  Annie  Pendleton  was  married. 

In  the  meantime  he  had  called  more  than 
once  on  Mrs.  Strong,  and  she  had  used  her 
best  endeavors  to  make  those  calls  pleasant 
to  him,  and  he  was  much  pleased  with  her. 


HUGH  DARNABF.  161 

But  Annie  was  married.  Ah,  the  knowl- 
edge of  it  coming  without  any  warning  struck 
him  like  the  blight  in  summer.  It  spoiled 
his  triumph.  What  was  success  to  him  if 
he  had  lost  even  the  possibility  of  gaining 
t  hat  which  was  really  the  great  incentive  to 
his  exertions? 

He  had  hoped,  and  waited,  and  worked 
for  the  time  to  come  when  he  could  have 
something  to  offer  her.  He  had  tried  to  be 
patient,  and  now  when  the  time  had  actually 
come  when  he  could  speak  his  love  to  her 
in  honor  it  was  too  late.  Oh,  the  madness 
of  the  thought.  Oh,  the  irony  of  fate,  the 
miserable  futility  of  striving  and  rebelling 
against  that  which  had  ah-eady  come  to  pass. 

He  saw  all  this  later  on,  but  not  now.  It 
was  his  first  great  disappointment,  his  first 
great  sorrow.  We  never  know  how  much 
pathos  there  often  is  in  old  familiar  quota- 
tions until  the  iron  enters  our  own  souls. 

Words,  words — familiarity  with  the  words 
so  often  repeated ;  words  which  have  become 


162  HUGH  DARNABT. 

common  property,  the  mere  body  from  which 
the  soul  has  been  separated,  "  It  might  have 
been  " — these  words  are  a  commentary  on 
the  lives  of  most  of  us.  Might  it  not  have 
been  ?  Ask  the  great  Ruler  of  the  universe. 
Hugh  was  at  a  small  social  gathering  at 
the  house  of  Major  Brown  one  evening,  and 
some  one  mentioned  the  fact  of  Annie 
Pendleton's  marriage,  casually,  among  other 
items  of  news.  He  never  could  recollect 
who  it  was  that  told  him.  He  heard  it, 
however,  and  a  real  pain  shot  through  his 
heart  as  if  some  one  had  suddenly  thrvist  a 
knife  into  his  breast.  And  very  soon  after 
he  excused  himself  and  went  to  the  little 
back  room  of  his  ofl&ce.  Once  there,  shut 
in  from  the  view  of  the  world,  he  threw  him- 
self upon  his  cot  and  gave  way  to  the  bitter- 
ness of  grief.  He  tried  to  reproach  her  in 
his  heart  for  what  she  had  done,  but  when 
he  became  calmer  he  saw  that  he  was  unjust. 
He  saw  that,  if  for  no  other  reason,  she  was 
justified  because  of  his  long  silence ;  that  it 


HUGH  DARN ABT.  163 

was  quite  natural  that  she  should  have 
thought  that  she  had  passed  out  of  his  life, 
and,  therefore,  she  was  quite  right  in  letting 
him  pass  out  of  hers.  Besides,  he  had  really 
no  claim  on  her  fidelity  or  constancy.  'Tis 
true  that  she  had  given  him  permission  to 
ask  her  love  when  he  returned  from  the  war, 
but  the  war  had  been  over  for  some  time 
now,  and  he  had  not  claimed  the  right  which 
she  had  given  him. 

How  was  she  to  know  his  reasons  for  not 
having  done  so  ?  Even  if  she  had  wished 
to  remember,  and  he  could  not  deny  it,  she 
was  justified  by  his  seeming  indifference. 
Perhaps  if  he  had  spoken  or  written,  things 
would  have  been  different,  but  he  must  now 
drive  such  thoughts  from  him.  She  was 
now  another  man's  wife.  He  felt  very 
desolate  though,  for  this  love  for  Annie 
Pendleton  had  sunk  deep  into  his  heart.  It 
had  grown  with  him,  as  he  had  said.  It 
seemed  almost  a  part  of  his  life.  Will  the 
worldly  wise  and  cynical  sneer  at  this  deep 


164  HUGE  DARNABY. 

love,  or  deny  that  there  is  any  such  nowa- 
days? 

If  such  be  the  case  I  only  ask  you  to  lay 
aside,  if  possible,  the  influence  of  such  be- 
lief, and  to  take  the  trouble  to  look  into  the 
private,  the  domestic,  the  inner  life  of  the 
individuals  with  whom  you  come  in  daily 
contact.  Peradventure,  the  love  which  you 
will  find  there,  the  almost  absolute  forgetf ul- 
ness  of  self  in  many  instances,  the  instances 
of  heroic  unseen  and  unheard-of  acts  of 
self-sacrifice,  of  chivalric  manly  and  womanly 
devotion,  seeking  not  to  be  paraded  before 
the  world,  will  make  you  blush  at  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  hollowness,  the  rottenness 
of  your  own  lives,  and  perhaps  cause  you  to 
regret  the  callousness  of  your  own  hearts. 

But  let  that  pass. 

Oh,  the  inscrutable  ways  of  Providence, 
which  draws  the  lives  of  two  individuals 
apart.  It  seems  to  be  a  sad  dispensation 
which  briefly  admits  the  brightness  of  another 
life,  the  influence  of  a  presence  into  our  own 
and  then  removes  it  even  to  the  end. 


HUOH  DARNABT.  165 

There  must  be  some  definite  purpose  in 
thus  filling  up  a  portion  of  a  life.  Listen — 
the  actual  presence  is  gone,  but  the  influence 
of  that  presence  is  felt  till  death,  perchance 
through  eternity.  And  this  would  seem  to 
be  the  reason  for  that  temporary  presence, 
at  least  it  is  the  only  compensation  for  its 
removal,  the  only  excuse  for  its  intrusion 
into  our  life.  Oh,  how  blind  we  are,  how 
dim  and  unsatisfactory  are  our  gropings  into 
the  future. 

And  thus  it  was  with  these  two  lives,  and 
it  is  a  very  common  thing  in  this  everyday 
life  of  ours,  they  drifted  apart. 

Annie  married  a  very  estimable  man,  a 
Doctor  Carson.  He  was  very  good  to  her, 
and  she  loved  him  with  all  her  heart,  let  us 
hope. 

Still,  let  me  ask  you,  you  loving,  faithful, 
tender-hearted  women,  do  you  ever  entirely 
forget  the  man  whom  you  have  loved  or 
cared  for,  years  ago  perhaps — or  who  has 
loved  you  ?     Let  me  ask  you,  is  there  not  al- 


166  HUOH  DARNABT. 

ways  a  spot  more  or  less  tender  in  your 
hearts  for  such,  no  matter  how  great  and 
absorbing  a  love  may  have  come  to  you  later  ? 

Annie  Pendleton,  or  we  should  say  Annie 
Carson,  was  a  simple,  true-hearted  woman — 
many  such  can  be  found  in  our  land,  thank 
God — and  she  did  not  forget  the  man  who 
had  offered  her  his  love,  when  it  was  all  he 
had  to  offer.  She  was  a  true,  loving  wife 
nevertheless,  and  she  did  not  allow  the  re- 
membrance of  him  to  interfere  with  the  love 
and  duty  she  had  given  to  her  husband. 

It  seems  to  be  true  that  we  never  forget 
anything.  The  influence  of  the  least  thing 
that  happens  to  us  as  we  journey  on  towards 
that  other  life  beyond  goes  with  us,  though 
it  is  safest  often  not  to  allow  our  thoughts 
to  linger  on  some  incidents. 

Old  Mr.  Pendleton  died  about  a  year  after 
Annie's  marriage,  and  soon  after  Dr.  Carson 
with  his  family,  moved  to  Louisville. 

During  the  second  year  of  their  marriage 
a  little  girl  was  born  to  them — a  sweet,  blue- 
eyed,  dimpled  little  darling. 


HUGH  DARNABY.  167 

After  this  the  Doctor's  pecuniary  condition 
began  to  improve. 

They  fitted  up  a  nice  little  cottage  on 
Fourth  street,  began  housekeeping,  and  Fate 
seemed  to  smile  on  the  household. 

Dr.  Carson  went  among  his  patients, 
studied  their  ailments,  ministered  to  their 
comfort  and  relieved  their  pain  as  only  one 
who  is  thoroughly  in  earnest  in  his  life  work 
is  enabled  to  do. 

Many  a  poor  sufferer,  too  poor  in  this 
world's  goods  to  pay  for  a  physician's  ser- 
vices, was  brought  back  to  health  and 
strength  by  his  ministrations. 

The  result  of  all  this  could  be  clearly  fore- 
seen ;  there  were  many  to  rise  up  and  call 
him  blessed.  The  Doctor  became  very  pop- 
ular, and  especially  so  among  the  poor  and 
needy.  His  practice  grew  until  the  proceeds 
therefrom,  notwithstanding  his  many  acts  of 
charity,  began  to  make  him  well-to-do. 

And  Annie,  his  wife,  both  from  the  influ- 
ence of  his  example   and  from  the  natural 


168  HUGH  DARNABT. 

kindliness  of  her  character,  and  because  she 
took  an  interest  in  his  work,  felt  that  her 
views  of  life  were  broadening  and  that  her 
life  was  growing  into  something  of  a  knowl- 
edge of  that  love  which  passeth  man's  under- 
standing; and  she,  too,  worked  among  the 
poor  and  needy. 

While  these  things  were  coming  to  pass 
their  little  girl  was  growing,  and  the  days 
and  the  months  and  the  years  were  passing 
swiftly  away,  and  now  the  little  girl  was  four 
years  old,  and  was  becoming  dearer  still  to 
.the  hearts  of  her  parents. 

Alas,  such  sunshine  and  happiness  as  was 
theirs  seems  to  be  destined  not  to  last  in 
this  world.  Is  it  that  our  God  knows  that 
we  should  probably  forget  Him  amidst  our 
happiness,  that  he  takes  it  away  from  us? 
Is  it  because  He  wishes  us  to  be  ready  and 
willing  to  go  when  He  calls,  and  knows  that 
we  shall  be  unwilling  to  leave  at  all?  Why,, 
then,  taste  of  Heaven  here  on  earth?  Per- 
haps, though.  He  means  it  as  a  slight  forecast 
of  things  to  come. 


HUGH  BARN ABY.  169 

I  do  verily  believe  that  it  is  intended  to  be 
enjoyed  by  us  while  it  lasts,  in  all  its  fullness 
and  without  question. 

I  am  not  one  of  those  who  is  afraid  to  be 
happy.  I  am  fain  to  believe  that  it  is  not 
the  calm,  the  fatal  calm  that  comes  before 
the  storm,  but  the  changeableness  of  all  things 
in  this  life  makes  us  look  for  the  worst,  and 
unavoidably,  unreasonably  tremble  even 
whilst  we  enjoy  the  good. 

A  few  short  weeks  more  of  almost  perfect 
peace  and  contentment  and  then  the  Doctor 
was  stricken  down.  The  constant  work  and 
anxiety  had  undermined  his  constitution — 
not  the  strongest  at  the  best.  His  will  was 
stronger  than  his  physical  development. 

He  had  often  been  exposed  to  virulent 
disease,  and  to  physically  corrupting  in- 
fluences in  his  visits  to  the  sick  and  the 
miserable. 

Hitherto  he  had  been  able  to  withstand  the 
insinuations  of  disease  in  his  own  direction, 
but  at  last  he  was  obliged  to  succumb. 


170  HUGH  DARN  A  B  T. 

The  dread  disease,  small-pox,  had  penetrat- 
ed even  beyond  the  precautions  taken  to  ward 
it  off. 

His  sickness  was  of  short  duration.  He 
lingered  only  a  few  days  and  then  he  crossed 
the  river  to  rest  beneath  "  the  beautiful 
shades."  His  devoted  and  lovely  wife  was 
with  him  to  the  last ;  she  could  not  be  kept 
away  from  him.  She  did  not  take  the 
disease.  No ;  another  chapter  in  her  life 
must  be  lived. 

What  pen  can  picture  the  pathos,  the  love, 
the  devotion,  the  sadness,  the  sorrow,  the 
wild  waves  of  grief  that  rise  to  the  heart,  the 
resignation,  the  fortitude,  or  the  beauty  of 
character  which  appears  at  such  times  and 
makes  up,  in  great  measure,  the  grandeur  of 
human  nature. 

What  is  man  that  Thou  considerest  him, 
or  the  son  of  man  that  Thou  visitest  him  ? 
Ah,  human  nature  has  Godlike  attributes, 
and  God-given  powers  and  depths  of  feeling, 
and  we  can  only  point  to  these  when  this 


HUGH  DARNABY.  171 

question  recurs  to  us  and  wonder  at  the 
same  time  at  the  meanness  and  brutality 
with  which  it  abounds. 

My  pen  is  utterly  useless  in  attempting  to 
trace  out  the  lines  of  this  death  scene. 

Annie  Carson  was  very  desolate  after 
this,  and  her  child,  the  child  of  this  man 
who  was  now  dead,  became  strangely  dear 
to  her. 

The  tendrils  of  her  heart's  love  grew 
around  the  little  girl  as  the  moss  grows  to 
the  rock. 


172  HUGH  DARNABY. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

HUGH   DARNABY   AND  ANNIE  CARSON  MEET  APTEB 
YEARS    OF   SEPARATION. 

It  was  some  time  before  Hugh  Darnaby 
could  become  reconciled  to  the  idea  of 
Annie's  marriage,  but  by  constant  effort 
and  assiduous  attention  to  business,  he 
managed  to  learn  to  accept  the  inevitable. 
He  schooled  himself  to  regard  her  in  his 
thoughts  as  belonging  to  another,  and  when 
reports  reached  him  of  her  happiness,  and  of 
the  noble  and  generous  character  of  her 
husband,  he  really  began  to  admire  Dr.  Car- 
son and  to  love  him  for  her  sake,  though 
they  had  never  met.  He  most  certainly 
rejoiced  in  her  happiness,  and  after  Annie's 
baby  was  born  he  secretly  loved  the  child 
from  the  first. 

But  their  real  separation  now  seemed  to 
be  complete,  and  he  being  frequently  thrown 


HUGH  DARNABY.  173 

into  the  company  of  the  pretty  and  fasci- 
nating Mrs.  Strong,  the  little  widow  who  had 
congratulated  him  on  the  success  of  his  first 
speech,  and  she  being  very  lovely,  and  he 
believing  that  he  loved  her  as  much  as  he 
was  capable  of  loving  any  one  now,  asked 
her  to  be  his  wife. 

At  the  same  time  she  had  another  very  de- 
voted admirer  in  the  person  of  the  son  of  one  of 
the  wealthiest  farmers  in  the  county,  so  she 
delayed  giving  Hugh  her  answer  for  a  time 
until  after  her  farmer  beau  had  formally 
proposed  to  her,  when  she  very  kindly,  but 
firmly,  declined  Hugh's  offer.  And  within  a 
month  after  she  was  married  to  his  rival. 

Hugh,  indeed,  tried  to  feel  very  much  hurt 
and  disappointed,  but  he  had  so  recently 
suffered  a  real  disappointment  that  one 
night  shortly  after  the  wedding,  while  lying 
awake  in  the  silence  of  his  room,  he  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  he  was  not  near  so 
sorry  as  he  should  have  been  that  things 
bad  turned  out  as  they  had. 


174  HUGH  DARNABY. 

He  compared  his  present  disappointment 
with  that  which  he  had  experienced  when 
Annie  Carson  had  been  married,  and  it 
struck  him  that  he  was  not  much  in  love 
with  Mrs.  Strong  after  alL  So  he  conchided 
that  he  would  not  play  high  tragedy  because 
of  hey  refusal,  but  would  act  like  the  sensible 
lawyer  that  he  was. 

And  time  went  on,  carrying  him  and  mil- 
lions of  others  on  its  tide,  and  many  months 
had  been  added  to  the  list  of  those  numbered 
with  the  past.  The  year  1872  had  come 
and  was  already  several  months  old.  A 
little  over  a  year  had  elapsed  since  the 
death  of  Doctor  Carson. 

Hugh  was  in  church  one  Sunday  morning — 
he  was  commonwealth's  attorney  now,  lately 
elected.  His  mind  had  been  occupied  with 
various  thoughts  as  he  walked  to  the  church, 
and  even  now  when  he  was  inside  and  the 
services  had  begun  he  was  somewhat  pre- 
occupied, so  that  he  had  not  noticed  the 
people  as  they  came  in. 


HUGH  DARNABY.  I75 

Of  course,  therefore,  be  bad  failed  to 
notice  tbe  entrance  of  a  lady  dressed  in 
mourning  witb  a  crape  veil  drawn  over  ber 
face.  Tbis  lady  was  leading  by  tbe  band  a 
singularly  beautiful  little  girl  about  four  or 
five  years  old  apparently,  and  tbey  took  a 
seat  in  the  first  unoccupied  pew,  which  hap- 
pened to  be  just  across  tbe  aisle  and  a  few 
seats  back  from  tbe  one  which  Hugh  occu- 
pied. 

Very  handsome  be  was  as  be  stood  with 
body  erect,  fully  six  feet  tall,  and  with  the 
locks  of  bis  hair  falling  slightly  disarranged 
over  one  side  of  the  forehead.  He  wore  a 
full  beard  parted  on  tbe  chin,  and  now  his 
bead  was  somewhat  inclined  forward.  His 
body  was  well  proportioned,  he  was  thirty- 
five  years  old  at  tbis  time,  and  in  the  full 
possession  of  all  his  faculties.  His  finely- 
balanced  mind  seemed  to  shine  forth  in  tbe 
thoughtful  expression  of  his  face  which  bad 
become  habitual  to  it  in  the  last  year  or  so. 

When  the  service  began  tbe  strange  lady 


176  HUGH  DARNABF. 

in  black  with  the  beautiful  little  girl 
removed  her  veil  from  her  face,  thereby  dis- 
playing a  countenance  of  wonderful  beauty. 
The  soft,  brown  hair  in  lovely  waves  was 
brushed  plainly  back  under  the  bonnet  she 
wore,  and  the  face  beneath  it  was  almost 
perfect  in  its  madonna-like  beauty. 

People,  as  they  looked,  no  longer  won- 
dered at  the  exquisite  beauty  of  the  little 
girl;  but  they  were  much  puzzled  to 
account  for  the  blue  eyes  and  the  golden 
hair  which  the  child  possessed. 

Hugh,  as  I  have  said,  was  altogether 
unconscious  of  the  beautiful  picture  which 
the  mother  and  child  presented. 

But  she  was  not  unconscious  of  his  pres- 
ence, for  she  had  glanced  up  at  him  as  he 
stood  there,  tall  and  handsome,  and  she  had 
remarked  the  kind  and  noble  expression  of 
his  countenance. 

She  knew  that  Hugh  Darnaby  stood  once 
more  before  her,  although  it  had  been  nearly 
ten  years  since  she  had  seen  him. 


HUOH  DA  RNAB  T.  I77 

But  she  did  not  know  that  the  old  love  for 
her,  though  repressed,  still  lived  in  his  heart, 
though  the  quick,  warm  rush  of  blood  to  her 
own  heart  warned  her  that  he  was  not  for- 
gotten entirely  by  her,  and  in  that  glance  it 
was  revealed  to  her  that  the  remembrance 
of  their  relations  of  long  ago  was  not  dead. 

Then,  almost  instantly,  the  remembrance 
of  that  other  man  who  had  been  so  kind  to 
her,  came  to  her  and  sent  the  blood  back 
from  her  heart  and  started  it  rushing  wildly 
through  its  channels. 

Afterwards,  as  the  service  proceeded,  she 
seemed  to  forget  self  and  to  enter  heart  and 
soul  into  the  worship,  the  praise  and  the 
thanksgiving  to  Almighty  God. 

At  last  an  old  familiar  hymn  was  an- 
nounced, and  a  sweet  old  tune  was  started, 
and  as  the  music  rolled  upward  and  around, 
filling  the  old  church  with  its  melody  and  its 
pathos,  Hugh  Darnaby  became  conscious  of 
the  delicious,  rythmical  sound  of  a  voice 
which  rose  above  every  other  in  the  build- 


178  S.  UOH  DARNAB  T. 

ing,  and  filling  his  soul  with  a  strange,  sweet 
remembrance.  It  seemed  familiar  to  him, 
yet  so  strangely  mellowed  and  sad. 

"Was  it — could  it  be  hers  ?  He  glanced 
around,  and  as  he  did  so,  his  eye  rested  on 
the  face  of  the  sweet  singer. 

The  same  brown  eyes  which  he  remem- 
bered and  loved  so  well,  although  he  had 
striven  so  hard  not  to  love  them — he  did  not 
wish  to  forget  them — were  there,  only  so  sad 
now,  yet  so  loving  and  trusting  nevertheless. 
For  the  time  she  seemed  to  be  in  a  realm  far 
beyond  this  vale  of  tears ;  verily  she  seemed 
to  be  singing  in  the  heavenly  choir  and  in 
the  actual  presence  of  the  Deity. 

Yes,  there  was  no  mistake.  It  was  she — 
Annie  Carson — he  remembered ;  but  Doctor 
Carson's  wife  no  longer. 

At  this  thought  he  could  not  help  that  a 
feeling  of  joy  entered  his  soul,  but  it  quickly 
gave  way  to  one  of  pity  and  sympathy,  for 
he  remembered,  also,  that  she  was  Doctor 
Carson's  widow  if  not  his  wife,  and  that  this 


HUGH  DA RNAB  T.  179 

little  vision  of  loveliness  at  her  side  was 
Doctor  Carson's  child. 

From  the  moment  of  the  recognition  of 
this  thought,  other  thoughts  came  in  quick 
succession,  and  he  began  to  soliloquize  in 
this  manner.  She  must  have  loved  him. 
Yes,  she  did,  or  she  would  never  have  become 
Annie  Carson,  and  this  seemed  to  annoy 
him  somewhat,  but  then  he  began  to  respect 
and  reverence  that  love  as  he  had  not  done 
before. 

He  turned  away  with  a  sigh,  for  in  that 
moment  he  knew,  beyond  a  doubt,  that  his 
love  was  not  dead ;  that  his  love  for  Annie 
Carson  was  stronger,  purer,  and  more  unsel- 
fish than  his  love  for  Annie  Pendleton  had 
ever  been. 

He  could  not  concentrate  his  thoughts  on 
the  sermon.  He  never  could  afterwards 
recollect  what  the  text  was. 

He  thought  it  must  have  been  "  love  "  for 
his  whole  being  was  aglow  with  that  one 
word. 


180  HUOH  DARNABT. 

He  sat  through  the  balance  of  the  service 
wrapped  in  delicious  reverie,  though  they 
were  somewhat  troubled  also  at  times. 

He  had  not  been  out  "  home,"  as  he  still 
called  the  old  place,  for  some  time,  and  he 
did  not  know  that  Mrs.  Carson  and  her  little 
daughter  were  visiting  friends  in  the  old 
neighborhood,  and  although  the  width  of  a 
church  pew  only  seperated  them,  as  far  as 
actual  distance  was  concerned,  they  two 
seemed  as  far  apart  as  ever. 

What  should  he  do  ?  He  loved  her ;  he 
knew  it  from  the  time  he  set  eyes  on  her ; 
yes,  and  far  more  than  ever  before. 

But  she — how  did  she  regard  him  ?  Proba- 
bly enough  she  looked  upon  him  as  merely 
an  old  acquaintance  whom  chance  might 
cause  her  to  meet  again  in  this  neighborhood. 

Well,  how  could  he  meet  her  as  only  a 
casual  acquaintance,  and  yet  what  if  she 
were  still  wedded  to  a  memory  ? 

The  services  were  now  over  and  he  must 
meet  her  at  the  door.     It  was  the  custom  of 


HUGH  DARNABY.  181 

the  people  to  exchange  greetings  at  the 
church  door,  and  almost  every  one  in  the 
congregation  knew  that  Mrs.  Carson  and 
Hugh  had  lived  close  neighbors  before  the 
war,  therefore  it  would  be  impossible  to  feign 
not  to  recognize  her.  It  would  provoke 
remark  and  perhaps  require  explanation  if  he 
even  seemed  to  avoid  her. 

As  it  happened  she  was  in  the  vestibule 
of  the  church  before  he  came  out ;  but  the 
driver  of  the  vehicle  belonging  to  the  friend 
with  whom  she  came  was  slow  in  his  move- 
ments, and  thej  were,  of  course,  on  that 
account,  somewhat  delayed  in  leaving  the 
church.  Most  of  the  people  had  left,  though 
a  few  still  lingered.  Two  or  three  of  the 
ladies  were  talking  to  and  making  friends 
with  little  Maud  Carson. 

Slowly  and  with  an  expression  of  counte- 
nance sadly  belying  the  cheerful  tone  of  voice 
with  which  he  greeted  the  ladies,  Hugh  came 
forward  with  outstretched  hand,  and  said, 
"How  do  you  do,  Mrs.   Carson?    This   is 


182  HUGH  DARNABY. 

certainly  an  agreeable  surprise  you  have 
given  us  to-day.  I  for  one  had  no  idea  that 
you  were  in  the  neighborhood." 

"And  this  is  the  little  lady  I  heard  singing 
in  church,"  continued  he,  turning  to  Maud, 
"  and  what  a  lovely  little  lady  she  is.  Wont 
you  speak  to  me  ?  I  used  to  know  your 
mother  when  she  was  no  larger  than  you 
are." 

The  little  girl  looked  straight  into  his  eyes, 
and  then  with  instinctive  judgment,  so  often 
present  with  children  in  making  new  acquain- 
tances, she  went  over  to  him  and  put  her  fat, 
chubby  little  hand  in  his,  and  Hugh  had 
made  a  new  and  powerful  friend. 

Presently,  after  some  further  conversation, 
Hugh  said,  "  I  see  your  carriage  is  ready  ; 
shall  I  see  you  safely  ensconced  in  it  ?  " 

Mrs.  Carson  answered,  "  If  you  will  be  so 
kind,  Mr.  Darnaby." 

And  as  they  walked  toward  the  carriage 
she  spoke  again  :  "  Yes,  this  is  my  little  girl, 
and  she  and  I  have  come  for  a  quiet  little 
visit  to  the  country." 


EUOH  DARNABT.  183 

She  noticed  that  he  turned  very  pale  when 
he  first  addressed  her,  which  surprised  her 
somewhat,  and  she  felt  that  it  behooved  her 
to  be  guarded  in  her  manner  toward  him 
lest  he  should  think  her  already  weaned 
from  the  memory  of  her  dead  husband,  and 
lest  he  might  possibly  mistake  some  action 
or  speech  of  hers  for  encouragement  to  seek 
to  renew  their  old  relations. 

She  was  a  widow  now,  she  said  to  herself, 
and  rather  mature  in  years,  and  she  must 
maintain  the  dignity  of  her  position ;  besides, 
she  had  loved  her  husband  while  he  was 
living,  and  she  loved  his  memory  now  that 
he  was  dead.  She  wished  Hugh  to  see  this, 
and  he  did  see  it,  and  he  determined  to 
respect  her  evident  wish  in  this,  in  as  far  as 
possible.  Therefore,  without  any  wish  to  in- 
trude upon  her  retirement,  but  more  from 
politeness,  he  asked,  as  they  took  their  seats 
in  "the  rockaway,"  how  long  she  would  be 
in  the  neighborhood.  But  before  Mrs.  Car- 
son could  reply  her  friend  said  :  "  We  hope 


184  HUGE  BARNABT. 

to  keep  her  some  weeks  at  least,  Mr.  Darn- 
aby,  and  we  should  be  pleased  to  have  you 
call  before  Mrs.  Carson  leaves."  And  con- 
tinuing, she  said,  "  Ah,  Mr.  Darnaby,  you 
have  become  so  wedded  to  your  profession 
and  to  your  town  life  that  you  have  sadly 
neglected  your  country  friends  lately.  You 
know,  Mrs.  Carson,  he  has  become  a  regular 
old  bachelor  recluse  ?  " 

Mrs.  Carson  hastened  to  say  that  although 
she  was  not  entering  into  society  at  all,  of 
course  she  would  be  glad  to  see  any  of  her 
old  friends,  and  she  assured  him  that  it  was 
not  at  all  certain  how  long  her  visit  would 
last,  and  then  they  drove  off. 

Hugh  felt  rather  disappointed  that  her  in- 
vitation had  not  been  more  cordial.  He 
went  to  his  room  feeling  that  he  had  passed 
through  a  very  trying  ordeal.  He  was  not 
living  in  the  back  room  of  Major  Brown's 
office  now,  though  they  were  still  the  best  of 
friends.  He  was  comfortably  ensconced  in 
a  private  boarding-house,  and  had  an  office 


HUGH  DARNABT.  185 

of  his  own,  in  addition  to  a  snug  little  sum 
of  money  in  bank,  or  otherwise  invested. 

Now  of  all  things  in  the  world  Hugh 
Darnaby  would  have  liked  to  have  accepted 
the  invitation  to  call  on  Mrs.  Carson,  but 
after  thinking  it  all  over  he  knew  that,  if 
chance  so  ordered  it  that  he  should  see  her 
alone,  he  could  not  keep  the  conversation  on 
ordinary  subjects,  but  would  be  certain  to 
lose  his  self-control  and  lay  his  heart  once 
more  at  her  feet.  And  this  he  understood  he 
must  not  do,  at  least  not  yet,  or  he  would  de- 
stroy any  chance  of  obtaining  the  fruition  of 
his  hopes.  He  hoped  that  he  might  be  able 
to  maintain  a  friendship  with  Annie  Carson, 
which  might  in  time  ripen  into  something  of 
a  warmer  nature.  He  saw  that  it  was  quite 
out  of  the  question  to  broach  the  subject 
next  his  heart  to  her,  and  he  determined, 
finally,  that  if  he  called  on  her  it  should  be 
formally,  and  that  he  would  ask  at  the  same 
time  to  see  the  lady  of  the  house.  For  the 
present  he  must  love  at  a  distance,  and  it 
must  be  kept  to  himself. 


186  HUGH  DARNABT. 

It  was  the  next  Saturday  afternoon,  after 
the  meeting  at  the  church,  that  Hugh  decided 
to  go  "  out  home  "  and  spend  the  balance  of 
the  day  and  Sunday  there,  intending,  should 
the  gods  favor,  to  call  at  Mr.  Crawford's, 
where  Mrs.  Carson  was  visiting.  The  Craw- 
fords'  place  was  not  far  distant,  lying  be- 
tween the  Darnabys  and  the  old  Pendleton 
place. 

About  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  Darn- 
aby  house  ran  a  little  stream  of  water,  and 
the  trees  grew  thickly  along,  its  banks.  In 
places  large  boulders  lay  in  the  shallow 
water,  and  mosses  cluDg  to  the  rocks  in  the 
shady  places.  Very  cool  and  pleasant  were 
certain  little  nooks  upon  its  shores,  and 
sparklicg  miniature  cascades  threw  their 
spray  into  the  sunlight  and  fell  in  varied- 
hued  specks  into  the  water  below. 

This  little  stream  crossed  the  road  which 
lead  to  town,  and  then  ran  past  the  Darnaby  , 
farm,    becoming  deeper  and  broader  as  it 
went. 


HUGH  DARNABY.  187 

The  fields  and  pastures  through  which  it 
wended  its  way  were  thickly  dotted  with 
many  varieties  of  wild  flowers. 

Above  the  bridge  and  beyond,  it  could  be 
crossed  by  stepping  from  stone  to  stone; 
but  below  there  was  only  one  fording  place 
within  a  distance  of  a  mile  or  more  from  the 
bridge. 

This  particular  Saturday  afternoon  was 
very  pleasant  out  of  doors,  very  pleasant  in 
the  sun,  but  delightful  in  the  shade  of  the 
trees. 

Annie  Carson  had  always  been  fond  of 
the  country,  and  especially  fond  of  its  out- 
door attractions  ;  so  this  afternoon  all  the 
members  of  the  household  which  she  was 
visiting  being  occupied,  and  she  being  alone 
with  her  thoughts  and  her  little  girl,  a  strong 
desire  to  go  out  and  enjoy  the  day  took 
possession  of  her.  She  wished  to  visit  some 
of  the  old  familiar  scenes,  familiar  to  her  in 
her  childhood,  familiar  to  her  in  girlhood, 
and  in  early  womanhood. 


188  HUGH  DARNABY. 

She  remembered,  very  distinctly,  the  little 
creek  of  which  we  have  just  been  speaking. 
The  recollection  of  more  than  one  picnicing 
frolic  on  its  banks  came  to  her,  as  she  and 
her  little  daughter  left  the  house  and  turned 
their  footsteps  in  the  direction  of  the  little 
stream.  It  was  about  two  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon  when  they  left  the  house,  and  a 
few  minutes'  walk  brought  them  to  it,  and 
then  they  rested  beneath  the  branches  of  a 
noble  old  elm  which  threw  its  shadow  within 
a  large  circumference  over  the  field  and 
stream. 

Two  boulders,  just  opposite  them  in  the 
water  confined  the  stream,  for  a  few  feet,  to 
a  very  narrow  channel,  and  as  it  came  out 
from  between  them  it  fell  for  a  couple  of  feet 
into  a  small  basin,  which  it  had  scooped  out 
by  ages  of  industry. 

The  child  amused  herself  for  a  time  by 
throwing  pebbles  into  the  stream,  and  by 
watching  the  ripples  they  made  in  the  water, 
as    they   formed    continuously    larger   and 


HUGE  DARNABY.  189 

larger  circumferences,  until  they  disappeared 
altogether.  But  tiring  of  this  after  awhile 
she  launched  little  chips  and  pieces  of  bark 
on  the  stream,  and  it  pleased  her  to  see 
them  borne  off  by  the  current.  Some  started 
down  together  and  were  soon  carried  out  of 
sight,  others  were  almost  immediately  sepa- 
rated by  the  force  of  the  current  and  driven 
wide  apart. 

And  the  mother,  half  reclining  on  the 
grass,  was  dreaming.  In  a  rather  inattentive 
way  she  watched  the  child  at  play,  and  saw 
the  launching  of  the  little  boats.  She  noticed, 
nevertheless,  that  some  of  them  went  all  the 
way  down  the  stream  together,  side  by  side, 
while  others  drifted  apart;  others  still  she 
saw  starting  together,  then  drifting  apart, 
and  so  sometimes  one  seemed  to  be  ingulfed 
in  the  waters,  and  then  soon  another  little 
boat  came  alongside  and  together  these  two 
drifted  gaily  down  the  stream  out  of  sight. 

And  she  thought  that  this  might  represent 
life,  and  how  like  her  own  and  that  of  her 


190  HUOH  DARNABT. 

husband  were  the  two  little  boats  starting 
out  together,  one  sinking  and  the  other  being 
borne  along  on  the  current,  and  then  she 
thought  of  the  other  little  boat  drifting  along 
side  of  the  one  which  was  left.  But  here 
the  similarity  ceased,  and  she  did  not  pursue 
the  thought  further,  but  rose  suddenly  and 
called  her  little  girl,  saying,  "We  will  go 
further  down  the  stream  where  the  flowers 
grow." 

They  had  been  out  a  couple  of  hours  now 
and  still  the  day  was  far  from  done.  They 
had  crossed  the  stream  above  and  were  now 
on  the  side  of  it  on  which  the  Darnaby  farm 
lay. 

They  found  the  flowers  growing  in  pro- 
fusion. Ah,  was  she  entering  the  sunny 
fields  of  life  where  the  flowers  of  peace  and 
happiness  grew  thickly  around  her  path 
waiting  to  be  plucked  and  placed  in  her 
bosom?  Hugh  Darnaby  had  been  at  the 
house  since  the  early  part  of  the  afternoon,  for 
it  was  only  about  a  half  hour's  drive  from  the 


nUQR  DABNABT.  191 

town.  His  horse  had  been  stabled,  he  had 
talked  to  the  grown  folks,  and  had  played 
with  Tom's  two  boys — one  about  five  years 
old,  the  other  a  baby ;  and  now  he  had  gone 
to  walk  over  the  place. 

"Was  the  little  stream  now  drifting  the  two 
liliputian  boats  together?  It  was  just  as 
Mrs.  Carson  and  little  Maud  had  concluded 
to  try  and  cross  the  stream  in  order  to  take 
a  nearer  way  back  to  Mr.  Crawford's,  that 
Hugh  came  to  the  edge  of  a  small  piece  of 
woods  which  skirted  the  stream. 

Mrs.  Carson  was  evidently  looking  for  a 
place  convenient  for  crossing,  and  had  been 
disappointed  at  not  finding  one. 

Hugh  saw  that  in  her  search  she  was 
Bearing  the  woods,  so  he  sat  down  on  a 
stump  of  a  tree  and  waited  her  approach. 

Presently  when  she  and  Maud  were  just 
across  the  fence  from  where  he  sat  partially 
hidden  from  their  view  by  the  thick  growth 
of  blackberry  bushes  in  the  fence  corner, 
Mrs.    Carson    was   very   much    startled    by 


192  HUGH  DARNAB7. 

hearing  some  one  say  :  "  Mrs.  Carson,  I  am 
afraid  that  you  will  not  find  a  crossing  place 
nearer  than  the  bridge." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Darnaby,"  she  exclaimed,  "  you 
really  did  startle  me,  for  I  thought  that 
Maud  and  I  were  in  sole  possession  of  this 
immediate  neighborhood.  We  have  been 
wandering  around  for  some  time  enjoying 
this  beautiful  afternoon,  and  I  thought  that 
if  we  could  cross  the  stream  here  it  would 
shorten  the  distance  to  Mr.  Crawford's  con- 
siderably. 

"And,"  she  hastily  added,  "it  is  really 
time  that  we  were  returning." 

"  I  am  sorry,"  said  Hugh,  "  but  I  am 
afraid  that  you  will  have  to  return  by  way  of 
the  bridge,  and  my  little  lady  Maud  looks 
quite  too  tired  to  walk  all  the  way,  so  I 
expect  that  I  will  have  to  carry  her."  And 
turning  to  the  child,  he  continued,  "Don't 
you  want  me  to  carry  you  a  part  of  the  way 
at  least,  Maud  ?  " 

"  Yes,  please,"  said  the  little  girl,  "  for  I 
am  awful  tired." 


HUGH  DARNABT.  193 

Mrs.  Carson  had  begun  to  say  that  she 
would  not  have  him  take  so  much  trouble, 
but,  seeing  that  her  little  girl  was  really 
quite  tired  out,  she  allowed  herself  to  be 
voted  down. 

And  so  it  happened  that  she  and  Hugh 
were  destined  once  again  to  walk  side  by 
side  over  the  old  familiar  ground. 

Many  objects  of  mutual  interest  were  seen 
as  they  moved  along  which  served  as  topics 
of  conversation,  and  they  even  ventured  to 
speak  of  the  changes  which  had  taken  place 
in  the  neighborhood  during  the  years  of  her 
absence. 

The  walk  together  extended  to  the  Craw- 
ford house,  and  proved  very  pleasant  to 
them  both ;  for,  although  Hugh's  heart  was 
beating  against  his  ribs  at  a  tremendous  rate, 
he  outwardly  retained  his  composure,  and 
she — well,  she  forgot  to  be  unhappy  for  the 
time  being. 

When  they  parted  at  Mr.  Crawford's  front 
door  Hugh  kissed  the  little  girl  he  had  been 


194  HUGH  DAENABT. 

holding  in  his  arms — the  child '  of  the  man 
who  had  possessed  all  of  that  which  he 
had  hoped  would  be  his.  One  thing  she 
had  noticed  and  appreciated,  and  that  was 
the  tact  and  delicacy  with  which  he  had 
kept  the  conversation  from  drifting  into  any- 
thing of  a  nature  which  might  in  anywise 
have  been  painfully  embarrassing  by  becom- 
ing too  personal. 

After  he  had  gone  little  Maud  said  to  her : 
"  Mamma,  I  like  Mr.  Darnaby,  don't  you  ?  " 

And  remembering  the  kiss  he  had  left  on 
the  cheek  of  her  fair  child — of  her  dead  hus- 
band's child — she  answered,  "  Yes,  baby,  he 
is  a  good  man,  and  I  like  him." 


HUOH  DARNABT.  195 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

MRS.  CARSON  DECIDES  TO  RENT  A  COTTAGE  FOR  THE 
SUMMER  IN  THE  TOWN  NEAR  HER  OLD  HOME. 

Hugh  called  once  after  this  during  Mrs. 
Carson's  stay  at  the  Crawford's,  and  soon 
she  and  her  little  girl  left  for  their  home  in 
Louisville. 

The  Doctor  had  left  his  wife  and  child  in 
very  comfortable  circumstances,  and  Mrs. 
Carson  was  still  keeping  house,  while  the 
Doctor's  only  sister  lived  with  her. 

She  made  herself  busy  in  works  of  charity, 
and,  in  as  far  as  possible,  visited  and  gave 
comfort  to  many  of  Doctor  Carson's  old  pa- 
tients, especially  to  those  who  were  in  the 
humbler  walks  of  life.  Many  a  poor  and 
needy  family  in  Louisville  received  material 
aid  from  her  means,  and  also  from  her  actual 
personal  counsel  and  assistance  in  times  of 
distress. 


196  HUGH  DARNABY. 

Once  during  the  ensuing  winter  Hugh  was 
called  to  Louisville  on  business,  and  while 
there  he  called  on  Mrs.  Carson.  She  was 
very  kind  and  friendly  to  him,  but  he  could 
find  no  encouragement  to  speak  his  heart 
to  her. 

He  was  now  trying  to  become  reconciled 
to  the  belief  that  his  love  for  her  would 
never  reach  beyond  the  bounds  of  silent  ado- 
ration, but  his  heart  would  still  rebel. 

He  loved  her  now  with  all  the  strength  of 
his  matured  manhood,  and  he  felt  that  he 
could  not  much  longer  keep  silence. 

He,  at  the  same  time,  respected  that  love 
which  made  her  cling  to  the  memory  of  her 
dead  husband,  but  he  failed  signally  to 
reason  the  matter  out  in  such  measure  as  to 
make  that  love  preclude  and  exclude  every 
other  for  all  time. 

He  did  not,  however,  speak  his  thoughts 
on  this  subject  on  this  visit,  though  the  least 
encouragement  would  have  tempted  him  to 
do  so. 


HUGH  DARNABY.  197 

The  winter  passed  and  the  summer  came 
again.  These  two  persons  had  not  seen  any- 
thing of  each  other  for  months,  but  each  had 
thought  of  the  other. 

We  know  something  of  Captain  Darnaby's 
thoughts  and  feelings  concerning  her,  but 
what  were  her  thoughts  regarding  him  ? 

Ever  since  that  walk  to  Mr.  Crawford's  the 
summer  before  it  had  been  known  to  her 
that  Hugh  loved  her ;  that  he  had  never 
ceased  to  love  her ;  that  he  was  ready  to 
offer  her  a  noble,  unselfish,  manly  love 
whenever  he  saw  that  it  might  not  be  dis- 
tasteful to  her.  And  she  knew  and  acknowl- 
edged that  she  had  loved  him  once  in  spite 
of  all  hindrances  to  the  consummation  of 
that  love.  But  now,  how  was  it  ?  Lately 
she  again  began  to  feel  that  she  loved  him  ; 
loved  him  with  a  new,  a  holier,  a  more 
absorbing  love  than  that  with  which  she 
had  loved  him  in  the  early  days ;  but  she 
would  not  yet  acknowledge  it  to  herself. 
Ah,  was   this  treason  to   that   other   love  ? 


198  HUGH  DARNABY. 

She  could  not  tell,  she  feared  that  it  was, 
and  she  thought  that  if  she  once  acknowl- 
edged this  new  love,  even  to  herself,  she 
must  despise  herself. 

But  it  had  come  to  her,  she  knew  not  how 
or  why.  She  had  not  sought  it,  it  had  not 
sought  her.  It  had  just  come  to  her,  God 
knows  how,  and  that  was  all  she  could  say. 

We  mortals  can  no  more  explain  the 
beginning  of  this  kind  of  love  than  we  can 
unravel  any  other  of  the  mysteries  of  eternity. 

If  he  were  to  ask  her  to  marry  him  now, 
she  would  probably  refuse  to  do  so,  and 
deny  her  own  heart,  not  because  she  did 
not  love  Hugh  Darnaby,  but  because,  as  she 
put  it  to  herself,  she  could  not  and  would 
not  forget  her  dead  husband's  love,  and  she 
could  not  reconcile  the  two.  Was  ever  a 
poor  woman  so  perplexed  ? 

No  mortal  being  beside  herself  knew  of 
these  thoughts.  She  only  admitted  as  much 
as  we  have  intimated  to  herself,  because  she 
could  not  help  it,  and  because  she  felt  that 


HUGH  DARNABY.  199 

she  must  think  out  her  course  for  the  future, 
for  she  knew  that  unless  Hugh's  character 
had  changed  very  materially  since  both  of 
them  had  grown  older,  he  would  not  keep 
silent  much  longer,  and  she  felt  that  when 
he  spoke  she  must  make  a  decision  which 
would  probably  be  final. 

It  was  during  the  early  part  of  the  summer 
of  which  we  have  spoken  as  having  already 
•come  that  her  sister-in-law  married,  thereby 
breaking  up  the  housekeeping  arrangements 
which  had  existed  for  some  time,  and  Mrs. 
Carson  was  again  left  alone  with  the  excep- 
tion of  her  little  daughter.  She  did  not 
care  to  remain  comparatively  unprotected 
in  a  large  city,  so,  as  she  thought,  some 
change  must  be  made. 

She  was  still  young,  comparatively  rich, 
and  exceedingly  pretty,  and  consequently 
she  was  not  without  suitors  for  her  hand. 
She  was  really  in  something  of  a  quandary, 
for  she  did  not  desire  the  attentions  of 
gentlemen,  and  hoping  to  rid  herself  of  their 


200  HUGE  DARNABY. 

importunities,  for  a  time  at  least,  and  having 
convinced  herself  that  Maud  looked  rather 
pale  and  needed  country  air,  she  concluded 
that  she  would  accept  once  more  the  invita- 
tion of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Crawford  to  visit  them. 
She  thought  that  she  would  stay  with  them 
until  she  could  secure  a  house  in  town  or 
in  the  country  where  she  could  spend  the 
summer. 

So  it  happened  that  Hugh  was  again  sur- 
prised to  hear  from  his  brother  Tom's  wife, 
who  obtained  her  information  from  Mrs. 
Crawford,  that  Mrs.  Carson  would  be  on  a 
visit  to  the  latter  in  a  few  days,  and  that  if 
she  could  secure  the  rental  of  a  house  she 
would  remain  for  the  balance  of  the  summer 
after  her  visit  to  the  Crawfords  was  over. 

Hugh's  heart  leaped  to  his  mouth.  Was 
fate  about  to  be  propitious  ?  Was  she  not 
directing  events  into  a  channel  which  might 
possibly  result  in  his  being  frequently  in 
Mrs.  Carson's  company? 

Mrs.  Carson   and  Maud,  who,  by-the-by, 


HUGH  BARNABY.  201 

was  something  over  five  years  old,  now  ar- 
rived, as  was  expected,  and  Hugh  soon  after 
made  it  convenient  to  call. 

Mrs.  Carson  told  him  that  she  wished  to 
secure  a  house  for  the  summer  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, or  at  least  in  town,  and  very  natu- 
rally, as  a  matter  of  friendship  merely,  of 
course,  he  offered  to  try  to  find  one  for  her. 
He  was  peculiarly  persevering  and  persistent 
in  his  efforts  to  do  so,  and  finally  he  was 
successful.  He  found  a  nice  little  cottage 
situated  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  and 
engaged  it  for  her  at  a  fair  rental.  It  could 
be  rented  for  three  months  with  the  refusal 
of  a  year's  time.  To  live  here  would  be  like 
living  in  town  and  in  the  country  at  the  same 
time,  for  the  house  was  set  in  a  perfect  garden 
of  flowers.  Blossom-bearing  bushes  and 
shrubs  and  plants  of  many  varieties  grew  up 
to  the  very  windows,  and  at  this  time  were 
in  full  bloom. 

A  small  house  it  was,  only  six  rooms,  with 
an  acre  of  ground  belonging  to  the  domain, 


202  HUGH  DARNABY. 

and  as  neat  as  a  new  pin  from  garret  to  cel- 
lar, and  freshly  painted  also.  It  was  a  per- 
fect little  gem  of  a  place.  And  having  se- 
cured the  rental  of  it  he  drove  Mrs.  Carson 
in  one  sweet  summer  day  to  see  it  and  to  let 
him  know  if  it  suited  her,  before  the  bargain 
was  closed. 

She  did  like  it,  and  as  she  was  passion- 
ately fond  of  flowers  she  was  more  than 
pleased,  and  the  place  did  look  so  neat  and 
homelike. 

So  the  bargain  was  closed  that  afternoon, 
and  afterwards,  when  she  was  settled  in  the 
house,  she  found  that  she  was  more  con- 
tented, happier,  in  fact,  than  she  had  been 
since  her  husband's  death. 

And,  in  passing,  let  me  tell  you  another 
thing  concerning  her ;  she  was  not  only  fond 
of  flowers,  but  was  passionately  fond  of 
music.  And  the  sweet  odors  from  the 
flowers  and  the  sweet  sounds  of  music  never 
failed  to  touch  a  pathetic  chord  in  her  nature 
and  fire  her  soul  with  heavenly  thoughts  and 
aspirations. 


HUGH  DARNAB7.  203 

And  why  should  she  not  be  comparatively 
happy  at  least  ?  Here  were  flowers  in  pro- 
fusion, music  she  could  have  at  her  pleasure, 
for  she  was  a  fine  performer  on  the  piano. 
Her  music  was  always  from  the  heart — from 
the  soul;  she  loved  it  and  it  was  good. 

Then  she  had  her  little  girl,  whom  she 
loved  devotedly,  with  her,  and  she  was  among 
friends  and  acquaintances  whom  she  was 
fond  of,  and  who  loved  her.  In  fact,  she 
felt  at  home  once  more ;  then  what  more  in 
reason  could  she  ask? 

But  while  the  moving  and  preparations 
for  the  occupation  of  the  cottage  were  going 
on,  Hugh  thought  that  it  was  incumbent  on 
him,  acting  for  Mrs.  Carson  in  this  matter, 
to  see  to  many  little  things  which  needed  a 
man's  supervision.  The  consequence  was 
he  got  into  the  habit  of  dropping  in  at  the 
cottage  during  the  evening  to  see  what  prog- 
ress was  being  made  in  the  preparations ; 
and  this  habit  seemed  to  have  taken  such  a 
hold  upon  him  that  it  clung  to  him  until  the 


204  HUGH  DARNABY. 

last  chair  had  been  placed  in  position  and 
the  last  tack  had  been  driven. 

Mrs.  Carson  did  not  encourage  these  visits 
any  more  than  politeness  seemed  to  compel 
her  to  do,  but  she  did  not  see  any  way  to 
refuse  his  proferred  services  without  being 
rude,  and  Hugh  did  not  intend  that  she 
should  find  any  excuse  for  declining  them. 

Had  he  not  been  very  kind  to  them  ?  Had 
he  not  secured  the  house  for  them  ?  Had  he 
not  tried  to  make  everything  as  pleasant  as 
possible  ?  It  was  quite  natural  that  he 
should  wish  to  note  the  progress  in  and  the 
results  of  the  experiment.  Besides,  it  would 
he  extremely  ungrateful,  not  to  say  impolite, 
not  to  invite  Mr.  Darnaby  to  call. 

Thus  ran  her  thoughts,  and  thus,  in  part, 
argued  he  to  himself,  without  consciously 
recognizing  the  fact  that  he  was  doing  so. 

These  days  passed  swiftly  and  pleasantly 
by,  and  Mrs.  Carson  had  become  used  to  and 
almost  reconciled  to  Hugh's  frequent  pres- 
ence at  the  cottage,  for  he  had  been  very 


HUOH  DARNABY.  205 

careful  not  to  touch  on  any  tacitly  forbidden 
subject.  In  fact,  when  he  failed  to  come,  as 
it  sometimes  happened,  for  a  day  or  so  at  a 
time,  she  felt  his  absence ;  something  seemed 
to  be  lacking  in  the  full  complement  of  the 
day. 

Maud  missed  the  romp  which  she  always 
had  with  him  when  he  came.  Still  Annie 
Carson  was  not  altogether  satisfied  with  the 
relationship  which  had  seemed  to  have 
grown  so  naturally,  so  unostentatiously,  so 
easily  between  them. 

It  gave  her  an  uneasy  feeling,  but,  on  the 
whole,  it  was  pleasant. 

One  lovely  day  in  the  latter  part  of  August 
they  were  walking  together  in  the  garden 
near  the  rustic  arbor  which  was  well  hidden 
from  the  street  by  the  bushes  and  vines 
growing  over  it  and  over  the  fence.  It  was 
Saturday,  and  toward  the  close  of  the  day. 
Captain  Darnaby  had  finished  his  day's  Avork 
and  had  dropped  in  to  spend  an  hour  before 
going  to  his  boarding-house. 


206  EUOH  DARNABY. 

Little  Maud  was  sitting  on  one  of  the 
benches  just  outside  of  the  arbor  twining 
wreaths  made  with  the  vine  slips  and  roses 
which  lay  on  the  bench  beside  her,  each  slip 
and  each  flower  awaiting  its  turn  to  be  made 
useful  in  her  work,  or  to  be  thrown  aside  at 
the  caprice  of  the  young  lady. 

She  and  "  Uncle  Hugh,"  as  she  called 
him,  had  become  very  great  friends.  He 
had  taught  her  to  call  him  thus,  out  of  mere 
sport;  but  she  had  taken  it  seriously,  and 
had  strictly  adhered  to  this  manner  of 
addressing  him  ever  since. 

"  Uncle  Hugh,"  she  now  exclaimed,  "  come 
here ;  I  have  a  beautiful  rose  for  you." 
And  he  obeyed  the  summons. 

She  stood  up  on  the  bench,  reached  up  as 
he  stood  in  front  of  her,  and  pinned  the 
flower  on  his  coat. 

"And  what  shall  I  give  Maud  for  such  a 
pretty  rose,"  said  he.  As  quick  as  thought 
she  tip -toed  and  put  up  her  pretty  little 
mouth    for  a  kiss.     Hugh    kissed   the   rosy 


HUGH  DARNABT.  207 

lips,  and  picking  her  up  ran  off  with  her 
around  the  walks.  They  had  quite  a  romp 
together  before  he  brought  her  back  to  the 
arbor  where  the  mother  sat  looking  on  and 
smiling.  And  she  could  not  help  thinking, 
"  He  would  be  very  good  and  loving  to  my 
little  girl." 

In  fact,  the  little  girl  had  learned  to  love 
"  Uncle  Hugh "  very  much,  and  "  Uncle 
Hugh  "  had  become  very  fond  of  the  bright 
little  face  and  charming  ways  of  his  play- 
mate. At  last,  tiring  of  the  sport,  she  asked 
to  be  put  down,  and  ran  to  the  kitchen  to 
beg  a  piece  of  bread  and  jam  from  the  cook. 

Mandy,  with  whom  we  made  acquaintance 
on  the  day  Jim  left  Mr.  Darnaby  for  the 
war,  was  ensconced  in  the  kitchen  as  presid- 
ing genius  there.  She  and  Jim  were  mar- 
ried now  and  were  living  in  the  town.  Jim 
was  just  as  fond  as  ever  of  Mars  Hugh,  as 
he  still  called  him,  and  it  was  through 
Hugh's  procurement  that  Mandy  was  now 
in  the  employ  of  Mrs.  Carson. 


208  HUGH  DARNABY. 

She  had  almost  unconsciously  gotten  into 
the  habit  of  depending  on  him  for  the  gen- 
eral direction  of  the  strictly  business  affairs 
of  her  little  household.  This  direction  was 
done  on  his  part  in  the  way  of  advice,  and 
it  was  accepted  by  her  as  suggested.  And — 
well  he  was  a  lawyer,  and  we  all  know  that 
a  woman  dependent  on  herself  needs  the 
advice  of  a  business  man,  and  why  not  Cap- 
tain Darnaby,  who  was  thoroughly  capable 
and  honest. 

After  the  little  girl  had  gone  into  the 
house  for  the  bread  and  jam  Hugh  sat 
down  on  the  bench  strewn  with  flowers  to 
rest  after  his  romp.  Mrs.  Carson  also  hap- 
pened to  be  sitting  on  the  bench,  and  as  Hugh 
sat  there  fanning  himself  with  his  hat,  he 
thought  that  she  had  never  looked  so  lovely 
or  so  lovable.  The  same  brown  hair  as  of 
yore,  with  the  ringlets  brushed  into  a  wavy 
mass  from  her  forehead,  and  the  same  brown 
eyes,  except  that  the  depths  in  them  seemed 
to  hold  deeper  feeling  and  thought,  were 
there  before  him. 


EUOE  DARNABY.  209 

He  broke  the  silence  presently  with  the 
question,  "Do  you  know,  Mrs.  Carson,  how 
I  knew  first  that  you  were  in  the  church  the 
Sunday  we  met  last  summer  ?  " 

"No,"  said  she,  "  I  do  not,  unless  it  was 
that  you  saw  me." 

"  No,"  returned  he,  "  it  was  not  in  that 
way  that  I  became  aware  of  your  presence. 
My  back,  of  course,  was  turned  to  the  door, 
and  I  was  not  expecting  to  see  you  at  all, 
but  I  heard  your  voice  as  you  sang,  heard  it 
rising  far  above  the  rest  of  the  voices,  and 
sweeter  than  any." 

She  looked  up  at  him  quickly  and  turned 
pale.  He  saw  the  expression  in  her  face 
and  noted  the  pallor,  but  he  went  on — it 
seemed  impossible  not  to  speak  now  that  he 
had  begun. 

"  At  first,"  he  continued,  "  it  came  to  me 
as  a  memory  of  something  pleasant  that  I 
had  known.  The  tones  were  familiar  as  if 
they  had  been  heard  in  my  dreams.  But,  as 
I   have   said,  not   knowing   that   you  were 


210  HUGH  DARNABT. 

within  a  hundred  miles'  distance  of  the  old 
church,  I  could  not  believe  that  I  was  listen- 
ing to  and  actually  hearing  the  voice  which 
I  had  never  for  a  moment  forgotten ;  but 
then  it  seemed  too  real  to  be  a  dream.  And 
then  I  looked  around  and  saw  you." 

"Does  it  seem  strange  to  you  that  I,  a 
man  of  the  practical  everyday  world,  felt  a 
warm  glow  in  my  heart  ?  Does  it  sound  foolish 
and  sentimental  when  I  tell  you  that  life,  for 
me,  lost  much  of  its  sombre  character  in  that 
moment,  and  that  the  whole  place  grew 
brighter?  It  is,  nevertheless,  the  truth, 
Annie  Carson." 

She  began  to  flush  as  he  uttered  these 
words,  and  a  lovely  blush  spread  all  over  her 
face  and  down  her  neck  until  it  was  lost 
among  the  ruffles  of  her  frilled  collar. 

He  spoke  so  rapidly  that  she  had  no 
chance  of  interrupting  him. 

"  No,  Annie  Carson,"  he  continued  vehe- 
mently, "I  have  not  forgotten  that  voice,  nor 
have  I  forgotten  any  of  the  incidents  of  the 


HUGH  DARNABT.  211 

old  days  when  I  used  to  hear  it  quite  often, 
before — before  we  both  went  away  from  the 
old  life." 

As  he  spoke  he  drew  from  his  pocket  a 
much  faded  pink  ribbon. 

"  This,"  he  continued,  holding  it  up  before 
her,  "was  the  talisman  which  accompanied 
me  in  many  a  trying  hour,  and  the  recollec- 
tion of  the  words  spoken  when  it  came  into 
my  possession  upheld  me  in  the  face  of 
death."  He  paused  for  breath,  and  she, 
taking  advantage  of  the  opportunity,  hastened 
to  say,  "And  why  do  you  recall  those  days 
and  the  words  then  spoken,  Captain  Darnaby  ? 
Don't  you  think  it  would  be  better  to  let 
them  stay  buried  in  that  past,  or  do  you 
wish  to  reproach  me  with  what  has  happened 
since?  I,  too,  remember  what  was  spoken 
on  the  night  before  you  left  for  the  war,  but 
have  you  no  reproach  for  yourself,  in  that 
things  turned  out  as  they  did  afterwards?" 

"  No,"  answered  he,  "  I  do  not  think  it  best 
to  keep  silent,  but,  of  course,  I  do  not  presume 


212  HUGH  DARNAB  Y. 

to  criticise  your  action  in  any  respect  what- 
ever." Then  he  explained  to  her  the  reasons 
which  had  deterred  him  from  taking  advan- 
tage of  her  permission  to  renew  his  suit  for 
her  hand  after  his  return  from  the  army. 

"  Our  friendship  is  very  pleasant  as  it  is," 
he  continued,  "but  you  know  it  cannot  con- 
tinue on  the  same  basis  that  it  has  since  you 
came  back  to  us,  because  I  love  you  and 
must  tell  you  so.  I  spoke  of  those  old  times 
because  I  loved  you  then  and  because  I 
thought  that  you  cared  something  for  me, 
and  because  I  do  not  see  any  just  reason  for 
your  not  giving  me  your  love  now  if  you 
care  for  me  in  that  way.  I  have  striven 
against  the  utterance  of  this  love  for  you, 
wishing  to  save  you  any  possible  annoyance 
or  discomfort,  but  it  would  not  down,  and 
the  knowledge  of  it  has  been  the  sweetest, 
the  holiest  thing  in  life  to  me."  He  hesitated, 
but  she  made  no  reply,  then  he  resumed :  "I 
did  not  mean  to  speak  at  this  time,  but  as  I 
looked  on  your  sweet  face  after  my  romp 


HUGH  DARNABT.  213 

with  Maud,  it  burst  irresistibly  from  me.  I 
know  and  respect  your  deep  and  lasting  love 
for  your  husband's  memory,  and  I  love  to 
think  and  to  know  that  while  he  lived  you 
were  a  good  and  loving  wife  to  him." 

She  seemed  about  to  speak,  but  he  did 
not  stop. 

"  I  know  what  you  would  say,  but  I  cannot 
see  that  this  love,  this  inordinate  sense  of 
obligation,  should  bind  you  forever  and 
prevent  you  from  accepting  the  honest  love 
of  any  other  man.  I  have  not  asked  you  to 
love  me,  but  I  know  that  if  you  love  me  at 
all  it  is  with  your  whole  heart  and  nature. 
I  would  not  ask  or  wish  you  to  forget  or  to 
cease  to  love  and  respect  the  memory  of 
your  dead  husband.  I  never  knew  him  per- 
sonally, but  I  can  love  his  virtues  and 
respect  his  character,  and  I  do.  I  do  not 
believe,  Annie,  that  you  are  altogether  in- 
different to  me.  Am  I  wrong  in  this  ?  Your 
answer  to  this  will  mean  a  great  deal  to  me, 
I  think  I  know  your  thoughts  in  respect  to 


214  EUOH  DARNABY. 

your  husband,  and  your  ideas  relating  to 
certain  things  which  you  regard  as  obliga- 
tions, and  it  was  in  the  hope  of  dissuading 
you  from  the  exaggeration  of  these  ideas 
that  I  have  referred  to  this  phase  of  the 
matter.  If  I  have  gone  too  far,  forgive  me, 
for  I  would  not  say  a  word  to  hurt  you  for  a 
great  deal.  But  when  a  man  is  pleading  for 
his  life's  happiness  he  may  unconsciously  be 
led  into  indiscretions  of  speech  and  action 
in  his  great  earnestness. 

"  Allow  me  to  say — I  speak  impersonally 
now  as  far  as  I  myself  am  concerned—*!  fear 
that  your  sense  of  duty  and  obligation  has 
grown  morbid,  and  that  it  may  cause  you  to 
reject  many  chances  of  happiness  which 
may  come  to  you  for  acceptance." 

He  paused  at  last,  and  she  hastened  to 
say,  "  It  would  be  untrue,  Captain  Darnaby, 
if  I  should  declare  that  I  am  indifferent  to 
your  regard  for  me.  I  do  feel  honored  in 
that  you  have  offered  me  your  love,  for  I 
believe  that  it   is    honorable   and   true.     I 


HUOH  DARNABY.  215 

think  that  when  an  honest  man  offers  a 
woman  an  honest  and  honorable  love  he 
pays  her  the  greatest  compliment  in  his 
power.  Still  I  cannot  but  be  sorry  that  you 
have  spoken,  Hugh,  and  yet  I  am  glad.  It 
cannot  be  as  you  wish,  but  still  1  will  be 
candid  with  you,  and  will  say  as  I  could 
wish  also.  We  cannot  seem  to  think  alike 
in  regard  to  one  matter  which  you  have 
mentioned.  And,  thinking  as  I  do,  I  could 
not  accept  your  love  and  be  true  to  myself. 
As  you  say  our  relations  lately  have  been 
very  pleasant  and  very  innocent,  and,  of 
course,  in  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  we  shall 
still  be  good  friends.  I  do  not  wish  to  even 
seem  to  treat  you  with  indifference,  but  you 
understand  that  now  we  cannot  maintain  the 
same  close  and  outward  relationship  which 
we  have  up  to  this  time.  The  only  excuse, 
if  excuse  we  needed,  for  the  same,  is  now 
gone.  People  have  already  begun  to  talk  of 
the  frequency  of  your  visits  to  the  cottage 
and  to  speculate  on  the  results.     I  learned 


216  HUGE  DARNABY. 

this  much  through  some  words  of  Mandj's, 
but  I  did  not  have  the  heart  to  speak  to  you 
about  the  matter.  Besides,  I  was  at  a  loss  as 
to  know  how  to  approach  you  upon  the  sub- 
ject without  taking  too  much  for  granted." 

"Then,"  interrupted  he,  "I  am  not  mis- 
taken in  hoping  and  believiug  that  you  do 
care  for  me?  And,"  taking  her  hand,  he 
drew  her  to  him,  saying,  "  A  fig  for  what 
people  say." 

The  barrier  was  down,  she  could  not 
resist  him  longer,  and  unresistingly,  scarcely 
audibly,  she  whispered,  "  I  do  love  you, 
Hugh,  God  forgive  me  if  I  do  wrong  in  tell- 
ing you  so." 

They  were  standing  now,  and,  imprinting 
a  kiss  on  her  forehead,  he  said,  "My  poor 
girl,  do  you  think  that  I  will  press  you  to 
give  me  that  which  you  cannot  give  willingly? 
No,  a  thousand  times  no ;  but  don't  you  think 
that  you  could  be  happy  as  my  wife?  " 

She  spoke  with  difficulty  in  reply,  "  Not 
now,  Hugh — I  cannot  just  yet.  I  hope  it 
may  be  so  at  some  time," 


HUGH  DARNAB7.  217 

At  this  juncture  Maud  came  running  into 
the  garden  with  the  slice  of  bread  and 
preserves  which  she  had  gone  foraging  for. 
"  Uncle  Hugh  "  she  cried  as  she  came  toward 
them,  "  have  some  of  my  bread  and  zerbs." 
He  waited  until  she  reached  him,  took  her 
up,  pretended  to  eat  a  piece  of  the  bread, 
kissed  her  gravely,  lovingly,  and,  saying 
"  Good-night  "  to  her  mother,  was  gone. 

As  Annie  Carson  walked  into  the  house,  a 
belated  bird  came  flying  to  roost  in  the 
honey-suckle  bush  by  the  door,  and  after 
twittering  its  hasty  evening  prayer,  sank  to 
rest  near  the  nest  which  he  and  his  mate  had 
built  earlier  in  the  summer. 


218         HUGH  DARNAB7. 


CHAPTEE  XV. 

IN    WHICH    IS    GIVEN    A    DESCEIPTION    OF      THE 
COUNTY   FAIK. 

A  week  had  passed  since  the  events 
chronicled  in  the  latter  part  of  the  last 
chapter  had  transpired,  and  the  great  event 
of  the  year  was  already  begun — the  county 
"Agricultural  Fair." 

It  was  here  that  the  fine  stock  raisers 
entered  their  animals  in  competition  one  with 
another,  and  the  owner  of  the  one,  in  any 
particular  ring,  which  bore  the  "  blue 
ribbon"  therefrom  felt  very  proud  indeed. 
This  "  blue  ribbon "  represented  to  the 
assembled  spectators  that  the  animal  on 
which  it  was  tied  was  the  best  styled,  the 
nearest  to  perfection  in  physical  beauty  of 
its  kind  which  had  competed.  This  animal 
had  taken  "  the  premium,"  and  its  owner 
was  substantially  benefited  thereby,  for  the 


HUGH  DARNABY.  219 

value  of  the  animal  was  immediately 
enhanced,  as  well  as  that  of  the  entire  family 
to  which  it  belonged. 

It  was  at  the  county  fair  that  the  well 
kept,  comfortably  fed  "  Short-Horn  "  cattle, 
with  pedigree  as  long  as  that  of  an  English 
lord,  were  to  be  seen  in  perfection,  and  less 
frequently  the  mild-eyed  Jersey  or  Alderney 
made  its  slow  way  into  the  show  ring  inside 
of  the  amphitheatre.  Here  the  fast  trotting 
horses,  or  the  beautiful  "  gaited "  animals 
for  which  Kentucky  is  noted  were  to  be 
found  in  graceful  competition,  and  as  some 
favorite  horse  or  rider  moved  around  the 
outer  edge  of  the  ring  a  shout  of  encourage- 
ment or  admiration  would  go  up  from  the 
throats  of  the  occupants  of  the  tiers  of  seats 
beneath  the  roof  of  the  amphitheatre. 

Here,  also,  the  youth  and  beauty  of 
Kentucky,  in  human  form,  as  well  as  the 
middle-aged  and  gray-haired,  was  assembled. 

To  one  who  for  the  first  time  attends  one 
of  these  fairs  it  is  a  very  interesting  as  well 


220  HUGH  DARNABY. 

as  a  rather  bewildering  sight  ;  the  hundreds 
and  even  the  thousands  of  people  gathered 
from  far  and  near,  the  brass  band  occupying 
the  elevated  stand  in  the  centre  of  the 
amphitheatre  doing  its  best  to  be  heard  above 
the  hubbub  of  the  myriad  of  voices,  and 
other  commingling  of  sound,  the  neighing  of 
the  horses,  the  bellowing  of  the  kine,  the 
bleating  of  the  sheep,  the  confusion  of  the 
vendors  crying  out  the  excellency  each  of  his 
particular  ware,  the  snap  of  the  target-gun, 
and  above  all  the  sharp  shrill  voice  of  the 
man  with  the  wheel  of  fortune,  where  any 
one  and  all  so  disposed  might  gamble  away 
his  hard-earned  or  easy-earned  money,  it 
mattered  not  which  to  the  man  turning  the 
wheel,  who  would  sing  out  untiringly,  "Let 
her  go  round  and  round,  always  once,  and 
sometimes  twice,  and  who's  on  the  lucky 
red  " — all  these  things,  I  say,  served  to  con- 
fuse as  well  as  to  interest. 

On  the  grounds  belonging  to  the  Agricul- 
tural Association  in   the   county   in    which 


HUGH  DARNABT.  221 

Hugh  Darnaby  lived,  and  not  far  from  the 
amphitheatre,  stood,  at  the  time  of  which  we 
are  writing,  a  large  round  building  called 
the  Floral  Hall,  furnished  with  shelves  and 
spaces  set  apart  for  the  use  of  those  having 
displays  of  cut  flowers,  and  various  farm 
products  raised  in  that  part  of  the  country. 
Here  were  to  be  seen  vegetables  and  fruit 
and  grain,  pumpkins  that  would  rival  in  size 
the  one  celebrated  in  the  story  of  Cinderella, 
corn,  melons,  and  potatoes  weighing  several 
pounds  apiece. 

Here,  also,  were  displayed  crazy  quilts, 
piece  quilts,  fancy  and  plain  sewing,  hand- 
sewed  and  machine-sewed,  paintings  in  oil 
and  in  water  colors,  drawings,  both  pencil 
and  crayon,  butter  fresh  and  yellow  just 
from  the  dairy ;  and,  in  fact,  everything 
which  would  represent  the  industry  and  the 
handiwork  of  the  people  of  that  part  of  the 
country. 

Some  five  or  six  years  after  the  late  Civil 
War   these   agricultural   fairs   were   at   the 


222  S  UOE  DARNAB  Y. 

height  of  their  popularity  in  Central  Ken- 
tucky, and  almost  every  county  in  that  part 
of  the  State  had  its  fair. 

Afterwards  the  race  tracks  and  "  Grand 
Stands  "  took  the  place  of  the  "  Old  Amphi- 
theatre," and  something  of  the  morale  was 
thereby  lost,  and  now  the  fairs  themselves 
have  about  ceased  to  exist. 

Most  of  the  time  during  fair  week  the 
Floral  Hall,  of  which  mention  has  been 
made,  used  to  be  filled  with  laughing  crowds, 
for  most  of  the  people  went  to  the  fair  to 
enjoy  themselves,  and  the  strains  of  beauti- 
ful music  from  the  string  baud,  which  was 
stationed  in  the  centre  of  the  building,  sur- 
rounded by  the  display  of  exquisite  flowers, 
was  very  enticing,  very  liable  to  soothe,  very 
certain  to  please. 

Everybody  from  the  country  round  about 
brought  "  dinner"  along,  and  toward  noon 
hundreds  of  picnicking  parties  were  scattered 
over  the  grounds  under  the  shade  of  the 
trees. 


HUGH  DARNABY.  223 

At  first,  and  for  years,  every  one  pic- 
nicked on  the  ground  in  true  democratic  sim- 
plicity, but  at  the  time  of  which  we  are 
writing  these  fairs  had  become  to  be  of  great 
social  importance. 

Men  of  note,  not  only  at  home,  but  men 
of  note  from  abroad,  from  other  States  and 
distant  cities,  were  attracted  to  the  fairs,  and 
began  to  make  them  the  occasions  for  the 
renewal  of  that  social  intercourse  which 
comes  only  occasionally  to  those  who  are 
separated  most  of  the  time  by  great  actual 
distance. 

The  sister  States,  both  north  of  the  Ohio 
river  as  well  as  those  west  of  the  Mississippi, 
and  also  those  east  of  the  Allegheny  moun- 
tains, sent  their  daughters  to  these  fairs. 

The  old  State  of  Kentucky  had  begun  to 
recover  from  the  effects  of  the  war,  and  one 
of  her  first  feelings  was  that  she  must  pro- 
vide for  the  entertainment  of  these  guests. 
The  old  spirit  of  antibellum  hospitality  was 
not  dead — only  it  had  been  dormant  and  very 


224  HUOH  DARNABT. 

greatly  crippled.  So  it  came  to  pass  that  most 
of  the  officers  of  the  different  fair  associa- 
tions, who  were  generally  men  of  wealth,  and 
a  good  many  of  the  other  richer  folk,  built 
themselves  "  booths " — that  is,  long-sided, 
shingle-roofed  buildings,  furnished  with  a 
long  table  extending  up  and  down  the  middle 
of  the  building,  and  benches  alongside  of  the 
walls,  with  a  kitchen  attached. 

These  booths  were  generally  permanent 
buildings,  standing  unused  during  the  whole 
of  the  year,  except  on  the  days  when  the 
county  agricultural  fair  was  in  progress ;  but 
on  those  days  the  most  abundant  and  costly 
spreads  were  displayed  on  these  board  tables, 
and  served  to  the  guests  from  spotless  linen, 
often  by  as  fair  white  hands  as  ever  were 
delicately  skilled  in  the  art  of  cookery. 

But  why  do  I  linger  in  the  description  of 
those  days?  Because  I  wish  those  who 
may  chance  to  read  these  pages  to  under- 
stand, in  as  far  as  it  is  possible  for  me  to 
bring    before   them    the   pictures   of    such 


HVOH  DARNABY.  225 

scenes  as  they  remain  in  my  mind,  the  man- 
ners and  customs  of  the  people  among  whom 
Hugh  Darnaby  and  Annie  Carson  lived  and 
moved  and  had  their  being,  and  perhaps  a 
few  tender  recollections  of  my  own  hover 
around  these  times,  and  make  me  loath  to 
pass  over  them  too  hurriedly. 

However,  it  was  the  gala  week  of  the 
year.  I  write  of  the  good  old  times,  and 
much  more  might  be  said,  but  I  desist. 
Things  may  be  just  as  pleasant  now ;  I  am 
sure  I  hope  so.  Alas,  I  am  afraid  that  such 
retrospection  is  a  sure  sign  of  approaching 
old  age.     Well,  so  let  it  be. 


226        HUGH  DABNABF. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

A  SCENE  AT  THE  COTTAGE  OF    MKS.  CARSON. 

After  Captain  Hugh  Darnaby  had  gone 
from  Mrs.  Carson's  house  on  the  Saturday 
evening  heretofore  spoken  of,  she  managed 
to  drag  through  the  balance  of  the  evening 
until  Maud  was  put  to  bed  and  Mandy  had 
left  for  the  night.  Then  she  went  to  her 
room,  and  until  late  into  the  night  she  sat  or 
walked  the  floor,  torn  by  conflicting  thoughts 
and  emotions.  At  one  time  she  would  give 
herself  up  to  happy  reverie,  and  she  would 
almost  determine  that  if  fate  should  so  decree 
she  would  marry  Hugh  Darnaby  without 
further  struggle. 

"  Love  him  "  ?  she  said  more  than  once. 
Yes,  she  loved  him  with  her  whole  heart. 
She  knew  it  at  last,  beyond  a  doubt. 

But  as  she  uttered  the  acknowledgment 
of  it  there  seemed  to  fall  a  hand  upon  her 


HUGH  DA  EN  A  B  Y.  227 

shoulder,  and  a  voice  seemed  to  whisper  in 
her  ear,  "You  are  mine.  Be  true,  be 
true."  And  frightened  and  distressed,  she 
crouched,  shivering,  close  into  the  ample  and 
easy  chair  by  the  side  of  her  baby's  bed. 
And  there  she  slept.  She  had  indeed  grown 
morbid. 

She  was  persuaded  by  her  friend,  Mrs. 
Crawford,  to  go  out  to  the  fair  grounds  on 
Thursday  of  the  next  week,  the  day  on  which 
the  gaiety  and  success  of  the  week  reached 
its  climax,  and  there  she  saw  everybody 
enjoying  themselves,  and  met  many  of  her 
old  acquaintances,  even  coming  across  a  one- 
time schoolmate  now  and  then,  who  had 
married  and  moved   away  from  the  county. 

She  forgot  herself  entirely  for  the  time 
being,  and  the  consequence  was  that  she  was 
happy,  very  much,  'tis  true,  through  sympa- 
thy with  the  mood  of  others. 

When  about  leaving  the  grounds  she  and 
Mrs.  Crawford  accidentally  met  Hugh  Darna- 
by,  who  walked  to  their  carriage  with  them 


228  HUGH  DARNABT. 

and  assisted  them  into  it.  They  were 
together  but  a  very  few  minutes,  still  it  was 
long  enough  for  Maud  to  ask  "  Uncle  Hugh  " 
why  he  had  not  been  to  see  them.  He  made 
some  evasive  answer,  but  Mrs.  Crawford, 
who  was  interested  in  these  two  friends  of 
hers,  had  been  watching,  quietly  but  approv- 
ingly, the  intimacy  which  seemed  to  have 
been  growing  up  between  them  during  the 
summer,  thought  that  she  saw  something 
was  the  matter  here.  She  was  a  true  friend 
of  Mrs.  Carson,  and  called  on  her  some  days 
after  this,  and  in  her  quiet  and  gentle  way 
she  managed  to  find  out  how  the  matter 
stood,  and  before  the  call  was  over  gave  Mrs. 
Carson  some  very  sensible  and  plain  talk, 
which  bore  its  fruit  in  due  season  as  all 
sensible  words  do. 

Fair  time  was  even  a  more  propitious  time 
for  match  making  than  Christmas,  and  all 
such  arrangements  for  this  year  had  been 
made,  and  things  in  general  had  settled 
down   to   their   usual  quiet  and  uneventful 


HUGH  DARNABT.  229 

tenor,  and  still  Captain  Darnaby  had  not 
put  in  an  appearance  at  the  Carson  cottage, 
to  Maud's  great  disgust.  Mrs.  Carson  was 
really  very  miserable  during  this  time,  for 
while  she  did  not  think  that  she  could  marry 
Hugh,  she  was  not  willing  to  lose  his  friend- 
ship if  it  was  possible  to  retain  it.  As  he 
had  not  been  to  call  at  the  cottage  since  that 
last  Saturday  evening,  she  was  afraid  that 
she  had  offended  him,  that  she  had  driven 
him  away,  and  woman-like  she  was  sorry  for 
it,  for  she  had  not  meant  to  be  unkind. 

She  had  intended  to  be  very  firm,  to  tell 
him  that  though  she  loved  him  she  could 
not  marry  him,  that  she  felt  almost  that  it 
was  a  kind  of  sacrilege  to  confess  even  to 
herself  that  she  loved  again,  though  she 
could  not  help  it.  And  yet  she  felt  that  she 
had  failed  to  make  him  understand  her  ideas 
in  this  regard  very  fully.  She  knew  that 
she  had  given  him  some  reason  to  hope  that 
at  some  time  in  the  future  she  might  marry 
him  ;  this    she   had  not  intended ;  but  that 


230  HUGH  DARNAB7. 

strange  inconsistency  of  woman  made  her 
glad  that  she  had. 

In  fact,  Mrs.  Carson  had  arrived  at  that 
condition  of  mind  in  which  she  did  not 
know  what  was  the  right  thing  to  do, 
though  she  knew  full  well  what  she  wanted 
to  do ;  consequently,  she  was  about  as 
miserable  as  could  be.  She  had  about 
reached  that  point  when  a  very  little  thing 
might  change  the  current  of  her  life. 

A  little  sound,  judicially  administered 
common-sense  advice  often  does  a  deal  of 
good  in  such  cases,  and  it  was  given  in  this 
instance  by  Mrs.  Carson's  friend,  Mrs. 
Crawford,  who,  stopping  at  the  cottage  on 
her  way  to  town  one  afternoon  about  this 
time,  told  Mrs.  Carson  that  in  the  first  place 
she  was  allowing  the  sense  of  obligation  to 
her  husband's  memory  to  become  greatly 
exaggerated  ;  that  she  was  young  yet  and 
that  in  all  human  probability  the  larger 
proportion  of  her  life  was  before  her,  and 
that  she  owed  it  to  herself  to  try  to  make  it 


HUGH  DARNABY.  231 

as  happy  as  possible.  And  that  in  the  next 
place  her  little  girl  was  already  very  fond  of 
Hugh,  and  that  he  loved  Maud  for  the 
child's  own  sake  as  well  as  for  her  mother's 
sake,  and  that  she  should  take  this  into 
consideration  also. 

She  told  Mrs.  Carson  that  her  nature, 
though  strong  in  some  respects,  was  so 
womanly  that  it  needed  the  protection 
and  guidance  of  a  strong  arm  and  a  lov- 
ing heart ;  that  she  was  eminently  fitted 
to  make  any  man  happy,  and  that  her  whole 
heart  seemed  to  rejoice  in  the  idea  of  home; 
that  she  was  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the 
generous,  manly  heart  which  was  offered 
her,  and  that  she  was  throwing  away  the 
greatest  chance  of  happiness  of  her  life. 

"  I  say  all  this,  Annie,"  said  Mrs.  Crawford 
finally,  "because  I  think  that  I  understand 
your  nature  pretty  well,  and  his  also,  and 
because  I  believe  that  what  I  have  said  is 
all  true,  and  will  be  for  your  good." 

"MoUie,"   answered    Mrs.    Carson,    after 


232  HUGH  DARNABT. 

having  presented  all  of  what  seemed  to  her 
to  be  the  objections  to  Mrs.  Crawford's 
theory,  "  my  heart  goes  out  to  him  with  all 
the  love  which  is  in  it,  but  my  sense  of  duty, 
my  ideas  of  loyalty,  seem  to  restrain  my 
desire,  I  have  a  fear  that  I  would  be  doing 
my  husband's  memory  a  wrong.  But  why 
even  talk  of  what  was  a  possibility,  for  he 
has  evidently  accepted  what  he  considered  a 
refusal.  He  has  not  been  here  since — for 
nearly  two  weeks — and  you  know  he  used  to 
come  to  the  cottage  every  day  or  so." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  said  Mrs.  Crawford,  "and 
you  miss  him,  too,  don't  you,  my  dear? 
Well,  be  patient,  and  he  will  come  back 
again,  or  I  don't  know  anything  about  man's 
nature." 

Nevertheless,  another  week  went  by,  and 
another,  and  still  another — and  the  month 
was  gone,  and  the  lovely  October  was  come 
again,  and  it  was  about  time  that  Mrs.  Car- 
son was  thinking  of  giving  up  the  dear  little 
cottage  and  going  back  to  the  city. 


HUGH  DARNAB  T.  233 

The  thought  of  leaving  it  made  her  very 
sad,  for  it  had  become  very  much  like  home 
to  her,  and  as  the  days  advanced  the  cer- 
tainty that  she  must  soon  give  it  up  op- 
pressed her  as  if  she  was  about  to  bury 
another  one  qf  her  loved  ones. 

She  began  to  look  very  seriously  into  the 
future,  and  she  saw  how  lonely  and  love- 
less, save  for  the  love  of  her  little  girl,  it 
would  be  for  her. 

Ere  many  years  had  passed  even  that  love 
would  be  at  least  divided  with  some  one  else. 
It  would  be  claimed  by  some  one  else,  and 
the  depth,  the  strength  of  it  would  have 
gone  to  that  other  one  in  a  closer  relation- 
ship than  even  that  of  a  mother's. 

She  saw  herself  an  old  woman  tottering 
alone  in  her  son-in-law's  house  perhaps,  still 
alone  and  traveling  through  old  age  to  the 
grave.  For  no  amount  of  wealth  can  pur- 
chase that  companionship  which  is  so  agree- 
able and  acceptable  to  the  old,  and  no 
amount  of   kindness  and  consideration  can 


234  HUGH  DABNABY. 

compensate  for  the  absence  of  it,  for  it  is 
only  found  when  two  loving  hearts  grow  old 
together. 

Ah,  she  was  very  sad  and  melancholy  as 
she  stood  at  the  street  gate  on  this  par- 
ticular evening  in  early  October,  standing 
there  in  the  twilight  dreaming  sorrowfully, 
thinking,  yearning  longingly  for  she  knew 
not  what.  Often  our  souls  go  grasping  after 
something  into  the  "  unknown  "  which  our 
minds  know  not  of.  And  as  she  stood  thus 
there  approached  the  form  of  a  man  coming 
along  on  the  sidewalk  in  her  direction. 

It  proved  to  be  Captain  Hugh  Darnaby, 
who  bowed  as  he  was  passing,  merely  saying 
"  Good  evening,  Mrs.  Carson." 

"  Good  evening,  Captain  Darnaby,"  she 
replied,  and  she  saw  that  he  was  passing  on 
without  anything  further,  and  a  great  wave 
of  indignation  came  surging  from  her  heart 
to  her  brain. 

Suddenly  he  turned  and  walked  back  to 
where  she  stood,  and  spoke  again.     "  Mrs. 


HUGH  DARNABT.  235 

Carson,  it  occurred  to  me  as  I  was  about  to 
pass  on  that  the  lease  on  the  cottage  here 
will  soon  expire,  and  I  thought  that  I  would 
inquire  if  you  wished  to  keep  it  longer. 
The  owner  of  the  property,  whose  agent  I 
am,  spoke  to  me  about  the  matter  as  I  came 
up  the  street  from  the  depot,  and  as  I  acted, 
de  facto,  as  your  agent  also  when  you  rented 
the  house,  he  naturally  spoke  to  me  for  infor- 
mation as  to  your  intentions  relative  to  keep- 
ing the  house  or  not  keeping  it  longer.  If, 
however,  you  would  rather  see  him  yourself, 
I  will  tell  him  to  call  whenever  it  will  be 
convenient  to  you  for  him  to  do  so,  otherwise 
I  shall  take  pleasure  in  acting  as  your  agent 
still,  and  will  make  any  arrangement  with 
him  which  you  may  desire." 

"  I  shall  be  greatly  obliged  to  you.  Captain 
Daruaby,  if  you  will  speak  to  the  owner  for 
me,  and  say  to  him  that  I  am  really  sorry, 
but  that  I  shall  have  to  give  the  cottage  up 
at  the  expiration  of  the  lease." 

"  Very  well,  Mrs.  Carson,  I  shall  tell  him 


236  HUOH  DARNABY. 

what  you  say  immediately,  for  I  know  he 
wishes  to  have  time  to  make  other  arrange- 
ments by  the  time  you  vacate. 

And  here  the  conversation  seemed  to  have 
reached  a  natural  termination ;  still  he  seemed 
loath  to  leave,  and  suddenly  he  broke  in 
with — I  have  been  away  for    a   couple   of 

weeks,  attending  court  in  county,  which 

belongs  to  this  circuit,  and  I  just  returned 
this  evening." 

And  there  was  another  pause,  and  she 
said  not  a  word,  for  not  yet  was  she  mollified. 

Then  he  continued,  for  he  was  puzzled  at 
her  manner,  "  For  ten  days  previous  to  that 
time  I  was  sick  in  bed,  and" — but  that 
sentence  was  never  finished. 

A  soft  sigh  of  relief  forced  itself  through 
Mrs.  Carson's  lips. 

It  was  not  then  on  account  of  indifference 
that  he  had  absented  himself  from  the  cottage 
for  so  long  a  time,  nor  was  it  that  he  was 
offended  with  her. 

"  Sick,  Captain  Darnaby,"  said  she  hastily, 
"  I  am  very  sorry  to  hear  it.     I  did  not  know 


HUGH  DARNABY.  237 

it  before.  You  should  have  let  your  friends 
known." 

And  just  at  this  juncture  a  little  voice 
sounded  from  the  yard,  "Oh,  '  Uncle  Hugh,' 
is  it  you  ?  Oh,  I  am  so  glad.  Mama,  make 
him  come  into  the  house  for  I  want  to  show 
him  my  new  doll  carriage.  Why  didn't  you 
come  to  see  Maud,  Uncle  Hugh  ?  "We  have 
been  awful  lonesome,  and  Mama  thought 
that  maybe  you  were  mad." 

"  You  little  darling,"  said  he,  "  have  you 
been  lonesome  ?  '  Uncle  Hugh '  has  been  sick, 
and  has  been  away  from  town,  too.  Do  you 
think  that  I  would  have  forgotten  my  little 
friend  ?  " 

And  he  picked  her  up,  as  she  threw  the 
gate  open  and  ran  to  him,  and  stepped  into 
the  yard. 

Mrs.  Carson  then  turned  to  him  and  said, 
"  Captain  Darnaby,  you  must  come  in  and 
see  Maud's  new  carriage." 

And  he  went.  Was  it  fate  ?  Very  little 
things  often  change  the  whole  course  of  our 
lives. 


238  HUOH  DARNABT, 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

IN    WHICH    HUGH   DARNABY   RECEIVES   HIS 
REWARD. 

Maud  brought  out  her  carriage  for  in- 
spection, showed  it  to  Hugh,  insisted  on  his 
admiring  the  trimmings,  etc.,  and  then  they 
had  a  play  together,  until  finally,  the  little  girl 
became  tired  and  crept  up  beside  him  on 
the  sofa,  and  asked  him  to  tell  her  a  story. 
And,  obedient  to  the  young  lady's  wishes,  he 
proceeded  to  weave  for  her  one  of  the  most 
wonderful  fictions  that  was  ever  woven  into 
a  story  from  the  brain  of  man.  But  at  last, 
although  the  interest  of  the  story  was  well 
sustained  throughout  its  entire  length,  the 
small  listener  fell  asleep  with  her  tired  little 
head  laying  upon  his  arm. 

Oh,  what  a  lovely  picture  they  made. 
The  mother  watched  it,  and  as  she  did  so  a 
bright  light  came  into  her   eyes,  and  a  look 


HUGH  DARNABT.  239 

of  contentment  spread  over  her  counte- 
nance, and  a  feeling  of  rest  and  content- 
ment took  possession  of  her  heart. 

Hugh  Darnaby  had  no  excuse  for  staying 
now,  except  that  he  did  not  wish  to  disturb 
the  sleeping  child.  He  glanced  down  at  her 
face — a  smile  was  playing  over  it — she  was 
dreaming  pleasant  dreams.  He  gently  laid 
her  head  upon  the  cushions,  and  bending 
over  her  kissed  her,  then  turning  around  and 
facing  the  mother  he  was  about  to  say,  "  I 
have  no  further  excuse  for  staying,  and  I 
suppose  I  must  go."  But,  seeing  the  large 
tears  like  mammoth  dew-drops  glistening  in 
her  eyes,  and  seeing  that  an  almost  heavenly 
light  shone  over  her  countenance,  he  stepped 
toward  her — irresistibly  impelled  to  do  so. 

He  approached  her  feeling  that  she  was 
some  holy  thing.  The  purest,  strangest 
feeling  that  he  had  ever  experienced  took 
possession  of  him  as  he  leaned  over  the 
back  of  the  chair  in  which  she  sat — and 
pressed  a  kiss  on  her  forehead. 


240  HUGE  DARN  A  B  T. 

"  Annie  " — and  this  was  all  he  said. 

"  Oh,  Hugh,"  she  cried,  "  take  me  if  you 
will.  I  love  you ;  be  a  father  to  my  father- 
less child."  And  she  rose  from  the  chair 
and  walked  over  to  the  sofa  on  which  her 
little  daughter  was  sleeping.  And  Hugh 
followed  her  and  stood  beside  her,  and  they 
two,  as  they  stood  looking  upon  the  child, 
made  their  vows. 

"  My  darling,"  murmured  he,  while  clasp- 
ing her  to  him  with  a  sudden  rush  of  feel- 
ing— and  the  soft  tresses  of  her  beautiful 
brown  hair  fell  upon  his  shoulder,  and  the 
tender  light  of  a  great  love  and  content  set- 
tled over  them  both. 

Sweet  Annie  Pendleton — sweet  Annie 
Carson,  your  cup  of  life's  happiness  will 
soon  be  full. 

Hugh  Darnaby,  blessed  an  hundredfold 
by  the  love  of  a  pure  and  honest  woman, 
guard  and  keep  the  sacred  trust  which  God 
has  confided  to  you,  with  loving  faithfulness. 

That  was  indeed  an  holy  hour  at  the  cot- 


HUOH  BARNABT.  241 

tage,  and  we  cannot  further  intrude  on  its 
sacredness. 

As  Captain  Hugh  Darnaby  opened  the 
front  gate  some  little  time  afterwards  on 
his  way  to  his  apartments,  and  Mrs.  Car- 
son was  standing  in  the  front  door,  he  called 
back,  "  Oh,  by  the  way,  shall  I  tell  Mr. 
Brown  that  you  have  concluded  to  keep  the 
cottage  ?  " 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  "if  you  please;  it  is 
such  a  dear  little  place  after  all — and  don't 
you  think  it  would  be  very  convenient  to 
your  business?" 

"Indeed  I  do,"  said  Hugh  in  reply,  "and 
we  must  keep  it." 

And  so  they  did,  and  before  many  months 
were  gone  Hugh  bought  the  place,  and  here 
at  last  he  and  Annie  built  their  little  home, 
and  again  that  spring  the  little  birds  mated 
and  occupied  the  nest  in  the  honeysuckle 
vine  near  the  corner  of  the  porch. 

A  few  days  after  Hugh  and  Annie  had 
decided  to  keep  the  cottage,  Maud  stoppe 


242  HUGH  DARNABY. 

from  her  play  long  enough  to  tell  Mrs. 
Crawford,  who  was  paying  a  short  visit  to 
Mrs.  Carson,  that  " '  Uncle  Hugh '  is  going  to 
be  my  new  papa,  and  won't  that  be  Jolly?  " 

And  early  in  December  Hugh  and  Annie 
were  made  man  and  wife. 

And  now,  if  the  reader  will  permit,  we  will 
pause  to  catch  a  breath  before  commencing 
another,  and  the  last  chapter. 


E UGH  DARNAB  T.  243 


CHAPTER  XVni. 

IN  WHICH  THE  KEADER  IS  INTEODUCED  TO  TOM 
BOWLING,  THE  CELEBRATED  RACE  HORSE,  AND 
IN  WHICH  OUR  STORY  CLOSES. 

After  his  marriage  Hugh's  practice  began 
to  increase  very  rapidly,  and  it  extended 
even  into  the  other  counties  of  the  judicial 
district  in  which  he  lived,  so  that  he  was 
away  from  home  quite  often  on  business 
connected  with  the  different  courts.  Some- 
times he  took  his  wife  with  him,  and  it  so 
happened  that  it  was  in  the  month  of  May, 
after  his  marriage,  that  he  was  in  Lexington 
for  a  day  or  so  on  business.  His  wife  had 
accompanied  him,  in  order  that  she  might 
pay  a  visit  to  some  friends  living  in  that  city, 
and  they  were  stopping  at  the  Phoenix  Hotel. 

Mrs.  Darnaby  noticed  that  the  hotel  was 
pretty  well  filled,  and  that  a  goodly  number 
of  men  were  standing  in  groups  on  the  side- 


244  HUGH  DARNABT. 

walk  in  front  of  the  hotel,  apparently  in 
earnest,  and  often  excited,  conversation. 

At  first  she  wondered  what  had  drawn 
such  a  crowd;  but  then  she  remembered, 
and  exclaimed  to  herself,  "the  races,  of 
course." 

Yes,  the  spring  races  had  begun,  and  one 
of  the  principal  and  most  noted  events  of 
that  section  of  the  country  was  in  progress 
at  Lexington. 

This  event  had  brought  together  many 
people,  not  only  from  every  part  of  the  State, 
but  also  not  a  few  from  distant  sections  of 
the  country,  who  had  come  to  see  the  off- 
spring of  noble  sires  and  rich-blooded  dams 
whirl  around  the  track  in  competitive  trials 
of  speed.  And  there  would  not  be  wanting 
a  few  of  the  veterans  of  the  turf  in  evidence 
also.  Short  distance,  and  long  distance 
races  were  to  be  run.  The  stables  of  Harper, 
Magrath,  Sanford,  and  others  would  be 
represented  here. 

The   small-ankled,    trim-limbed,   graceful 


HUGH  DARNABT.  245 

colts,  with  dilated  nostrils  and  flashing  eyes, 
and  with  pedigrees  as  long  as  the  moral  law, 
would  be  there,  ready  and  anxious  to  prove 
their  lineage  by  worthy  deeds. 

Yes,  they  were  there  to  prove  themselves 
worthy  scions  of  a  noble  race,  or  else  to  be 
relegated  to  the  drudgery  of  the  plow  and 
the  farm  wagon.  And  when  the  race  was 
over,  some  there  were  who,  with  a  proud 
and  scornful  toss  of  the  head,  trotted  to  the 
stable  amid  the  deafening  huzzas  of  the  ex- 
cited crowd,  wearing,  metaphorically  speak- 
ing, triumphant  laurel  crowns,  and  sniffing 
the  air  with  the  consciousness  of  a  task  well 
done. 

But  there  were  still  others  on  whom  had 
been  pronounced  the  "  Mene,  mene,  tekel 
upharsin  "  of  the  judges,  and  they  passed 
out  of  sight  with  bowed  heads,  with  veins 
swelled  with  the  exertion  so  recently  under- 
gone, yet  stepping  with  that  grace  which 
comes  only  to  those  in  whose  veins  courses 
good  blood. 


246  HUGH  DABNABT. 

And  the  thought  would  come,  as  one 
looked  into  those  eyes,  that  a  noble  regret, 
a  deep  humility,  mingled  with  an  appeal  for 
sympathy,  shown  from  them. 

In  those  days  many  men  of  stability  of 
character,  and  whose  standing  in  the  com- 
munity in  which  they  lived  could  not  be 
questioned,  were  wont  to  relieve  the  tedium 
of  business  with  a  day's  recreation  at  the 
races  now  and  then.  And  even  the  ladies 
in  considerable  numbers  frequently  graced 
the  "  grand  stand "  by  their  presence,  and 
lent  an  air  of  refinement  to  the  occasion. 

Of  course,  there  was  much  that  was  coarse 
connected  with  these  events,  but  the  "  sport," 
pure  and  simple,  was  ennobled  in  many  ways 
at  that  time  and  in  that  locality. 

Often  a  pool  was  bought  by  the  gentlemen 
attending  ;  sometimes  a  bet  was  made  with 
another  gentleman,  or  a  pair  of  kid  gloves 
or  a  box  of  handkerchiefs  were  wagered 
with  some  member  of  the  fair  sex. 

On  this  particular  May  morning,  about 


HUOH  DARNABY.  247 

eleven  o'clock,  Hugh  Darnaby  returned  to 
the  hotel,  found  his  wife,  and  asked  her  if 
she  would  not  like  to  go  out  to  the  race- 
track that  afternoon  and  see  the  celebrated 
Tom  Bowling  run  in  a  three-mile  race. 

She  hesitated  at  first,  not  being  altogether 
easy  in  her  conscience  as  to  the  orthodoxy 
of  the  ethics  of  the  race-track,  but  upon 
being  assured  that  the  best  people  in  Lex- 
ington often  attended  the  races,  and  that 
many  of  them,  both  ladies  and  gentlemen, 
would  surely  be  there  on  this  particular  day, 
she  consented,  with  the  understanding  that 
Mr,  and  Mrs.  Todd,  the  friends  whom  she 
came  to  visit,  would  accompany  them. 

So  they  took  a  carriage  and  drove  to  the 
track  after  dining  at  the  hotel.  And  it  must 
be  confessed  that  besides  wishing  to  please 
her  husband  she  had  a  desire  to  see  a  great 
horse  run,  for  the  reputation  of  the  "  run- 
ners "  of  Kentucky  is  dear  to  the  heart  of 
every  Kentucky  man  and  to  that  of  most 
Kentucky  women.     And  what  man,  woman, 


248  HUGH  DARNABY. 

or  child  in  the  State  had  not  heard  of  Tom 
Bowling,  and  what  one  of  them,  deep  down 
in  his  heart,  did  not  wish  to  see  him,  to 
watch  his  lengthy  leaps,  to  see  him  settle 
down  to  business  and  proceed  to  annihilate 
distance  ? 

What  one  of  them  but  what  would  have 
wondered  at  the  ease  and  grace  with  which 
he  assumed  that  seemingly  easy  swing,  and 
set  the  pace  which  sent  him  under  the  string 
a  winner. 

McGrath  had  two  starters  in  the  three- 
mile  race  on  this  afternoon,  one  a  very  dark 
brown  mare,  Kate,  and  the  other  Tom  Bow- 
ling. 

It  was  booked  for  the  mare  to  win  the  race, 
if  possible,  but  if  it  was  not  possible  for  her 
to  do  so,  then  Tom  was  to  pull  ahead  and 
win.  Bob  Swim,  then  a  celebrated  jockeyj 
rode  Tom.  When  the  horses  came  onto  the 
track,  they  were  a  pretty  sight  indeed  to  see. 

There  were  three  or  four  starters  in  the 
race.     Tom  stood  almost  directly  under  the 


HUOH  DARNABY.  249 

tape,  perfectly  still,  with  his  head  low  and 
white  face  showing  to  the  crowd,  but  with 
eyes  alert  and  ears  bent  forward  as  if  ex- 
pecting and  awaiting  the  tap  of  the  drum. 
The  other  horses  were  somewhat  restive  and 
seemed  anxious  to  be  off,  but  none  displayed 
the  excitement  so  noticeable  in  the  colts. 
Each  evidently  had  had  experience,  and  the 
race  would  be  a  hotly-contested  one. 

Tom  was  a  beautiful  animal  as  he  stood, 
dark  red-bay  in  color,  and  of  fine  propor- 
tions. 

But  at  the  tap  of  the  drum  the  bunch  is 
off  and  a  good  start  is  made.  By  the  time 
they  have  covered  the  first  half  mile  the 
brown  mare,  Kate,  surges  to  the  front,  and 
keeps  the  lead  for  the  first  two  miles  in  good 
style,  closely  followed  by  the  other  two 
horses,  with  Tom  bringing  up  the  rear. 

The  crowd  is  going  wild  with  excitement 
by  this  time ;  bets  are  offered  freely  and  some 
are  taken ;  handkerchiefs  flutter  in  the  air, 
hats  are  waved  on  high,  and  from  the  throats 


250  HUGH  DARNABT, 

of  the  throng  comes  a  mighty  shout.  Ah ! 
but  what  is  that  ?  The  two-mile  limit  has 
been  passed  and  one  of  the  horses  slowly 
but  surely  begins  to  pull  well  up  to  Kate's 
side,  and  now  they  are  neck  and  neck.  A 
moment  more— and— yes,  he  is  ahead. 

When  the  two-and-a-quarter  post  is  passed 
a  thread  of  light  is  shown  on  the  horizon 
between  the  horse  and  the  mare's  nose,  and 
the  other  horse  is  creeping  up  alongside  of  a 
Kate.  There  is  now  only  three-quarters  of 
mile  in  which  to  finish  the  race  and  Kate  is 
beginning  to  show  signs  of  distress  and  Tom 
is  still  bringing  up  the  rear. 

It  is  evident  now  that  the  mare  can't  win, 
but  what  is  the  matter  with  Tom  ?  Has  he 
found  his  match  ?  Another  hundred  yards 
and  the  mare  drops  back  and  the  two  horses 
forge  ahead.  Tom  passes  the  mare,  but  the 
horse  in  the  lead  hugs  the  fence  on  the  inner 
circle  of  the  track,  the  other  runs  his  nose 
in  toward  this  one's  ribs,  forming  a  pocket, 
so  that  there  is  no  possible  chance  for  Tom 


HUGH  DARNABT.  251 

to  pass  them  except  by  pulling  around  the 
two  on  the  outside,  and  this  is  what  he  is 
endeavoring  to  do.  Now  Swim,  now  Tom! 
Can  they  make  it? 

An  anxious  stillness  is  in  the  grand 
stand  and  over  the  crowd.  Necks  are 
craned,  mouths  are  held  agape,  cheeks  are 
blanched,  and  hands  grip  tightly  any  object 
in  reach. 

It  seems  that  if  something  does  not  hap- 
pen soon  to  relieve  the  congestion,  this  mass 
of  humanity  will  burst  through  the  bounds 
of  time  and  cease  to  breathe  the  breath  of 
life. 

But  the  seconds  have  been  speeding,  and 
the  horses  have  reached  the  two-mile-and-a- 
half  post,  and  Tom  Bowling  is  neck  and 
neck  with  the  foremost  horse.  Now  they 
start  down  the  home  stretch,  coming  like 
mad,  and  Tom  is  slightly  in  the  lead. 

And  now  a  great  sigh  breaks  from  the 
crowd,  and  then  a  sound  that  reaches  the 
sky.     On  the  horses  come  as  if  on  the  wings 


252  HUOH  DARNABT. 

of  the  wind,  the  jockey  applying  the  whip  to 
the  sides  of  Tom's  rival.  Suddenly  Tom  is 
seen  to  leap  and  spurt  like  a  steam-engine, 
with  nostrils  wide  open  and  the  fire  flashing 
from  his  eyes;  everybody  is  standing  up 
now,  on  the  seats,  on  the  railing,  all  bending 
eagerly  forward,  each  holding  his  breath  for 
the  next  two  seconds,  which  seems  an  eter- 
nity. And  now  the  horses  thunder  under 
the  tape,  with  Tom  Bowling  two  lengths  in 
the  lead. 

A  mighty  cheer  goes  up  from  thousands 
of  throats  that  Tom  Bowling  has  won  his 
greatest  race. 

When  the  race  was  over,  our  friends 
returned  to  the  city,  Mrs.  Darnaby  made  her 
visit  to  the  Todds,  and  was  ready  to  go  home 
with  her  husband  the  next  day. 

And  time  went  on,  and  when  the  passing 
of  the  years  had  changed  many  things,  when 
Maud  had  grown  to  be  a  very  beautiful 
young  lady,  and  was  quite  sure  she  would 
marry  Tom  Darnaby,  Hugh's  eldest  nephew, 


HUGH  DARNABT.  253 

when  Hugh's  own  boys,  two  of  them,  were 
growing  to  be  fine  manly  fellows,  and  a 
sweet  heavenly-faced  little  girl  was  come  to 
brighten  their  lives  and  share  their  love, 
when  Captain  Hugh  Darnaby  had  become 
very  popular,  and  was  one  of  the  most 
generous-hearted  men,  when  he  was  Judge 
Darnaby,  and  liis  brother  Tom  was  State 
Senator  Darnaby,  when  the  silver  threads 
had  become  very  thick  among  the  brown 
locks  upon  his  wife's  head,  and  the  lovelight 
in  her  eyes  had  grown  very  mellow  and 
sweet,  then  we  find  that  the  trust  of  these 
two  in  each  other  had  not  changed,  that  their 
contentment  and  happiness  had  changed 
but  to  grow  more  satisfying,  more  intense,  if 
less  outwardly  demonstrative. 

Indeed  they  had  joined  hands,  and  were 
traveling,  quietly  traveling  together,  down — 
just  over  the  crest  of  the  hill  that  leads,  let 
us  hope,  into  that  love  which  surpasseth 
man's  understanding. 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wi  Imer 
323 


